


The Pauper Prince

by herdthinner



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Original Fiction, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:51:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 69,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herdthinner/pseuds/herdthinner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just one of many stories about a character who's been with me since the 1980's. I've taken to calling her my literary stunt double. Her name is pronounced Mare-uh, not Marr-uh. I just prefer the former, is all. </p><p>This is not fanfiction and is entirely her own story. It's set in a "fairy tale" Middle Ages, minus any magic. Please don't expect historical accuracy. If you prefer your Middle Ages like "Game of Thrones," then read no more of this. My characters' survival rates are much higher!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Would-be Minstrel

**********************

A young, lanky, dark-haired, would-be minstrel arrived late morning in the town of Allcourt of the county of Kingsbrook of the kingdom of Gildern with a lute on his back, a spring in his step, a hum in his throat, and no coins in his purse. He had the attitude of a young man leaving home for the first time to make his own way: confident, apprehensive, eager and anxious. Not bad for a start. He had heard the people of Allcourt were friendly enough. Whether or not they were generous, too, would soon be determined. They had better be if his purse was to be fed, and by proxy, him, when he had enough for food and drink.

The best way to find out which spot would bring the most listeners - and donations - would be through trial-and-error, he decided, and stopped, pulled out his lute, set down his wooden bowl, tugged down the brim of his cap, and began the first of the eight songs that he knew by heart. Like most songs of his time, they were ballads about love, good and bad, true and false, lasting and tragic, serious and comical. One of each for the eight songs that he knew.

As he played, some people lingered, a child or two stopped, more people slowed down but did not stop, and others paid him no mind. So far nobody tossed a coin into his bowl, but the day had just begun.

Across the way, Erick, the owner of the inn _Eleanor Elaine_ , paused in his work when he heard the minstrel playing outside. After a short time he shrugged and continued his duties. Nothing worth going outside for. His worker, Mara, came downstairs with a pile of dirty bed sheets and spent candles. Customers who paid extra got candles; the others slept in total darkness. She set the candles on the bar and turned to take the sheets outside for laundry. Erick collected the candle stubs so he could melt them, with other remnants, into new candles. Whatever saved a copper.

From upstairs, closer to the windows, the minstrel could be heard a little better. Only then did Mara notice any of his noise. She paused and listened just long enough to see if she could recognize the song. No such luck. Hopefully he wasn't one of those minstrels who tried to get work inside the inn as a singer. First, Erick wasn't about to hire an entertainer, and Second, Mara had yet to convince him to hire another innworker, period. Erick at least concurred that the work was hard, but hard work was nothing to be afraid of, and it wasn't enough to warrant hiring another employee, etc etc. Of course, if she were willing to share the table scraps - her only source of food there - and fit another cot inside of the dry goods storage, then he'd consider it. Erick was not the most generous employer, but he was one of the few willing to hire a woman, and possibly the only one willing to leave his female employee "alone," if that meaning is clear.

He also begrudgingly accepted her choice of clothing, which could be described as pseudo-feminine at best. No dresses or skirts or even bodices for her; she made do with a small leather vest over a worn, light-blue shirt, and would be wearing leggings, a belt and boots, but Erick also had her wrap a large bit of fabric around her waist for a makeshift skirt. The most "arranging" she did with her long, honey-colored hair was to tie it back in a tail to keep it off her face while working.Mara was mildly grateful for not being made to fancy herself up. On the other hand, twelve hours each day of cleaning rooms, laundry, cooking, waiting on tables, cleaning the dining space, emptying pisspots, running errands, and whatever else Erick needed that day, left her exhausted each night, which threatened to dispel any lingering gratitude.

After hanging up the laundry to dry, it was time for Mara to buy the day-old bread from down the road. Also the day-old vegetables, eggs, meats and other "mature" ingredients. Erick's most common meals were stews and soups, so no need to pay for the fresh stuff. She was allowed to buy fresh(er) meat and fish for the roasts, though. The minstrel was playing something that sounded like whatever he'd been playing before. He was smiling as he played, wandering a little bit but remaining in the general area. Mara kept her eyes to herself as always when she went out in public, but accidentally glanced his way. He caught her glance, smiled more broadly, played and sang more loudly, and strolled her way as she passed, but the actions were not reciprocated. There was work to be done and she had no time to frolic with street musicians.

*********************

The end of the day was much like any other: Mara and Erick put up the chairs in the dining area. Mara swept while Erick put all the dishes into the soaking tub for Mara to get to later; this was after she'd taken the scraps for her bowl . Then she went outside to trim the lanterns lining the inn. The minstrel had stopped playing long before and had gone - somewhere - for the night. Probably home. And just as well, because the night was chillier than usual. For that Mara worked more quickly than usual. Back inside soErick could lock the front door. Finally he went into his own room while she finished cleaning off the dishes and setting them to dry for the next day.

She took her bowl of scraps into the dry storage room. Before bringing in her candle, she checked to make sure that there was no flour in the air or outside of its container. Satisfied that she was safe from a flash fire or explosion, she sat on the edge of her cot, licked the bowl clean, blew out the candle, and pulled the blankets over her. The cot was hard and the room cool, but she had slept in much worse places before, many times.

*********************

The minstrel surprised Erick the next morning by being at the door as soon as Erick unlocked and opened it.

"Pardon me, my good man," said the minstrel, bowing slightly. "I hope that I didn't startle you. But if you're open for business, might I come in for a morning draught and a morsel?"

"...W-Yes, of course, my good man," said Erick, and let him in. The minstrel went to a table in the corner and set down his lute. His cap was still on, brim pulled low.

"What can I get you?"

The minstrel pulled out three coppers. "What can I get with this?" he asked.

"Uhhh.... some of yesterday's stew, perhaps?"

"That would do nicely."

"Very well. MARA!" said Erick, startling the minstrel. A moment later she thumped-thumped-thumped her way downstairs and saw right away that there was a customer. "He'll have yesterday's stew," said Erick.

"Stew?" she said. "But..." then whispered, "We're out from last night. There was half a bowl at best. I had to eat _something_."

The minstrel forced a smile. "I don't want to be the cause of any trouble. Ale?"

"Ale it is," said Erick.

Mara left to fetch the breakfast beer. The minstrel kept Erick's attention and gestured to his lute. "My good man," he said, "I don't suppose you saw or heard my playing yesterday?"

"Uhhhh, yes, we did."

"Ah, good. And, if you happened to enjoy it, perhaps your customers might enjoy-"

"No."

"I'm...sorry?"

"No to hiring you to entertain my customers. If that's what you were going to ask."

Mara's back was turned to them both, allowing her to indulge in a wicked smile.

"I... Yes, actually," said the minstrel. "But... I assure you from experience that many diners enjoy a good entertainment. It makes the meal more pleasant."

Erick sighed. "Perhaps some other inn in town, but not here. I've got food, drink and rooms, and that's enough for the people who stay here. Enjoy your brew," he added as Mara brought over the drink.

"Two coppers," she said before setting it down. The minstrel pushed over two of his three coins, then took the tankard, mimed a toast, and took a sip. He grimaced at the taste, but forced a smile and kept sipping.

"Let us know if you need anything else," she said flatly and started to leave.

"My good lady," he said, "Perhaps you could sit with me for a moment. Some company?"

She didn't need to look to Erick for his approval or lack thereof; hearing him clear his throat from the other room was sufficient. "Your pardon," she said, "But I have much work to do. Enjoy the drink."

The minstrel tried to be discreet about watching her walk away. He continued sipping at the drink and ignoring the growls of his stomach. There was, of course, much work for him to do that day, whether he had the voice for it or not.

*********************

Once a week the butcher had lamb on sale, which Mara bought for Erick along with the other meats. She made a lamb stew that some of the inn's regulars liked very much. For her it was a two-edged sword: a popular meal brought more customers and more orders, and also decreased the chance of any proper leftovers. Mara did like her own stew, after all. Erick couldn't make it because she wouldn't share the recipe, and also because she "cheated" and bought fresher ingredients than he would have liked. Which meant that on lamb stew days, she paid the difference out of pocket. Fortunately her salary of three coppers a day was usually saved for another day. She could always buy her own meals rather than fight for scraps, but she did that only once a week, again, to save money. This was not a place she wanted to work at forever. Erick had no heirs, so if she were inclined, she could work towards securing a chance to inherit the inn, most likely by wooing him into a marriage or some other partnership. But she was not inclined. Mara was saving her money to help her survive the next time she needed to travel and seek other employment. She was not a native to Allcourt, Kingsbrook or Gildern and had not set roots in any land for more than a year at a time. A consequence of how she had been raised.

Near-closing time for the inn. Mara was outside trimming the lights as always and did not notice someone approaching the front doors. She did hear Erick being startled and then speaking to someone in muffled tones. Then he called to her to hurry up and see to their "last customer of the night."

By now the droning of the minstrel outside had become that: droning, so she had not been thinking about him, and had almost forgotten his previous visit a few days earlier. It was just as well; the people of Allcourt had not been generous to him. His clothes still had a look and smell of newness to them, but were already showing wear and tear. For a moment she was slightly impressed that he was actually as tall as she, since few men of the time even reached 6' 1", let alone surpassed it. It turns out that his posture betrayed his real height. It was as if in barely a week's time he had been beaten down and could scarce take the weight of the world anymore. There seemed to be a new gauntness to the face and a sullenness to the eyes that actually made her feel a slight amount of pity. _The fool, thinking he could sing a living here_ , she thought.

"He's taking the back room," said Erick, interrupting her thoughts.

"...Very well," she said. "And... will he have anything to eat?" _Ahhh, why did I ask that?? Not the stew, not the-_

"Oh, I'd love a-" said the minstrel.

"He only has enough for the room," said Erick. "Sorry, my good man." _Phew!_

"Of... course," said the minstrel. "I've had to decide each day if I would eat, or sleep. Tonight, I will sleep." Now she noticed that his voice was hoarse, too. He was rubbing his fingers a bit, as well, as though all the lute playing had made them sore. Even worse for trying to make a living as a musician.

The back room was the smallest and cheapest room. Usually the most drunken customers got it, if they'd spent most of their money on food and drink, and had no more than the four coppers needed for the room. It was behind the dry storage room and facing the back of the inn. The "view" consisted of the alley and smelled vaguely like the hole where Mara dumped the contents of the pisspots and old cleaning water. One good thing about Allcourt is that it did have what some might refer to as modern conveniences, such as sewers, well-maintained roads and bridges and generally clean water wells.

The minstrel was hardly a drunkard; he was just in a poor situation, emphasis on "poor." Nevertheless, he sighed relievedly at the sight of the bed and set down his belongings. It was easy to tell that the bed was shorter than he, so there would be no stretching out tonight. But it was at least warmer and dryer in here than outside.

"Thank you, my good woman," he said. "I think I might actually sleep tonight."

"Oh... Well, I hope that you do sleep well," she said. "Ah, should I replace your candle?"

He looked at the candle remnant on the room's small table, then shook his head. "Nay, good woman. I'm told that a new candle costs extra, and I can only afford the room itself. So... I must bid you good night, then."

"Very well," she said. "Good night."

Back to the rest of the chores before her own bedtime: soaking the dishes, cleaning the food containers and checking all doors and windows. She had made just a little bit more than usual of the lamb stew, but had lost track of how much had been sold. _Pleasepleaseplease be at least a bowl's worth!_ It was to her relief that she found enough for just over a full bowl. Her aching legs and back would thank her for the extra fuel.

Erick had retired to his room to balance the day's finances, which Mara was convinced was his favorite "chore." She checked the doors and windows in the front area, then filled her first bowl. And followed the routine of making sure that no stray flour in the storage room would catch fire and kill her, but this time she simply stared at her candle without lighting it. Half of it was left. She _could_ use one of the reconstituted candles - one she had remelted and reshaped herself, in fact.

With a sigh she went back to the pot of stew and stared at the bottom, then at her bowl, and alternated a few times before taking another bowl and scraping out the rest of the stew into it. Then she compared the two bowls and traded some of their contents until they were as even as she could make then. And then took a moment to stare at the floor in thought before carrying them both to the storage room. There she retrieved her half-candle and matches for it.

She had to knock, quietly all the while, several times before the minstrel finally opened it. He kept it at a peek's width until recognizing her, and then opened it all the way.

"My good woman," he said. "Is there something wrong? Please tell me I don't have to leave."

"Hm?" she said, a little startled that he was now standing at his full height. It turned out that it beat hers by at least two inches. "Um... no," she said quietly. "Not that I know of? I just... I-I thought you might be hungry. This is lamb stew."

His face and shoulders fell. "Ohhhh," he said. "I have no money for food, only the bed. If I think of food tonight, I won't-"

"It's not--" she said. "That is, you won't be charged. This is a portion that didn't sell. And a half-candle, in case you wanted light. You won't be charged for that, either."

For some reason he just stood there, staring at her with an expression that she couldn't interpret.

"Do you..." she said, "Want these? Or not?"

"I..." he said, "Good woman, of course!" then stepped aside and gestured into the room. He was thanking her over and over, but she was not responding, instead handing him one of the bowls and setting the candle down on the table. The first match was a good choice, and sputtered to life and brought light to the room.

She turned to leave, but he was _there_ , holding his bowl up and gently tapping hers like they were supposed to be toasting, or somesuch. Her first instinct was to get closer to the door, just in case. This was her first instinct when interacting with any man: make sure an escape route was nearby. The exception by now was Erick, who was too dull to fire any of her instincts.

The minstrel smiled broadly. To her surprise Mara noticed that his smile was... nice to look at. But then suddenly his face was buried in the bowl as he gulped down every drop hungrily and happily. It was such a sight that she was too engrossed watching him to begin her own meal.

"You were... very hungry, I see," she said.

"Yes," he said, suddenly pensive. "Very. This was delicious! It's been a long time since I've had something this good."

"Ah... Thank you," she said.

"Why, did you make this? Not the owner?"

"Right, I did," she said. "Um... Well, you said something before about deciding between a meal or a bed. So... I... thought you might like both."

"Indeed. You're truly an angel, my good woman."

"What?" she said, stifling a laugh at that. "Uh... Hardly. And why do you keep calling me 'good woman'? It doesn't suit me at all."

"It's... a proper way to address strangers and acquaintances, nothing more," he said. "We've not been formally introduced, and even so, it wouldn't be appropriate to address a woman with familiarity. And I assure you that it 'suits you' quite well. You've shown me more kindness than anyone here has so far. I am in your debt." He held out a hand and began to bow. Mara had no idea what he was trying to do, and shrank back.

"Oh, no, no!" she said. "You... You owe me nothing. No debts."

"A kindness should be repaid-"

"No. Stop making this into more than it is."

"Please, I had no intention of upsetting you, dear lady," he said. "I'll say no more, then."

"Good," she said, visibly relaxing. "I just don't like the idea of... That is, I wasn't trying to..." She sighed in frustration. "Forgive me, I'm unable to find the words."

"That's... quite all right." His voice was still hoarse, but strangely soothing.

"I-I should get back to my chores," she said, and started for the door.

"Still? Does he never let you rest?"

"Er... I didn't mean chores," she said. "I'm off to bed myself, that's all. I.. hope that you sleep well tonight... 'my good man.' "

"Oh," he said, more sadly than she was able to notice. "I was hoping we might share our meal for a little while. But then, it appears that I've gulped mine down without waiting for you. That was rude of me. I hope you'll forgive me, dear lady."

"Now I'm a 'dear lady'?" she said. She paused at the door, but only turned enough for him to hear her. "You worry too much about being polite. But good night."

"Good night."

She shut the door behind herself, leaving the minstrel to his thoughts.

"Dear lady," he whispered.


	2. The New Hire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story so far:  
> A would-be minstrel came a-strummin' to town.

\-------------------------

Mara and Erick were up early, as always, setting the chairs down in the dining room, unlocking windows, and so on. There wasn't much physical labor that Erick actually did, aside from most of the cooking, general hosting and of course, counting the money.  Everything else was laid at Mara's feet. Very tired and sore feet.

"I'm not looking for an entertainer," said Erick. "You know that."

"I do know that," she said. "Then offer him what I do?"

"And you know that you'll be sharing the scraps and space in the-"

"-Storage room, yes," she finished. "Erick," she continued, setting down the last of the stools in the room. "I'm too tired to care anymore. This is too much work for one person."

"Is it now?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, it is. If I have to share scraps or squeeze another cot in the room, so be it. I'm not old, and I'm not _weak_." She said the last word as though it were the most offensive thing she had ever heard. "I'm strong, as my father raised me to be. And this work tires me."

Erick sniffed. "Have it your way, then."

******

Mara was in the kitchen, preparing the cooking pots for the day's meals, and tried not to listen to the muffled conversation of Erick and the minstrel. She remembered that she had left his bowl in the room the night before, though. Something else to clean up for a guest. Just then the muffled voices stopped, and Erick appeared with the minstrel.

"Mara," he said. "You've met Kenneth. He's agreed to work here."

"I am pleased and honored to work here," said Kenneth. "It's not singing, but it's honest work.  Thank you so much, my goo... uh, Erick."

"Don't thank me," said Erick.

_Oh, no..._

"Thank her," he continued. "She convinced me to hire you."

Kenneth smiled that broad smile of his. "Truly?" he said. "Another kindness to repay."

"What's that?"

" _Nothing, Erick_ ," she said quickly. "It's nothing."

"So be it," said Erick. "Well: show him what to do, then!"

She showed him. And no matter what she showed him, Kenneth acted like the ever-increasing list of tasks was some exciting adventure for him, as though laundry, cleaning, cooking, scrubbing, hauling, running errands and emptying pisspots were every boy's dream. All right, not the pisspots. Even his face fell at the thought of collecting all of them for an aromatic trip to the sewage hole. But whatever she showed him, he insisted without hesitation that he was willing and able to do it.

At least he was true to his word, that first day, anyway. In spite of a strained voice, she sometimes heard him humming to himself as he went about the new chores, and did not show offense when she corrected him from time to time. This was unusual for a man to a woman. It was good that he was a quick learner. It was also good that very little learning was required for most of the chores. Just a good constitution and a strong back, especially when carrying the filled water jugs from the town's well. It had been Mara's job to fill the inn's half-dozen jugs and carry them back without benefit of a cart or wheelbarrow. And although she was the one who had convinced Erick to take on another worker, she resisted Kenneth's assistance with the jugs. Anything that would indicate she was of the weaker sex, such as being unable to carry heavy things, she was loathe to relinquish. Kenneth was loathe to shirk any of his new duties, either, but stepped aside on this matter, for now. It was only his first day, after all.

Two surprises awaited Kenneth at the end of the day: one was that his muscles ached more than he could remember them aching before, and two was that they were not offered a free, and most importantly, _full_ meal for a hard day's work. Erick had promised "all the scraps you can eat," but until now, Kenneth had not grasped what that really meant. For one person there had been enough collected throughout the day, but for two? Perhaps not quite enough. And so he and Mara sat at an empty table, combining their findings of the day. His instinct was to offer it all to her, but after so many days of near-starvation out there, his instincts were in danger of being overwhelmed.

 _No_ , he thought, fighting his way back to humanity. _These are not thoughts for the woman who has shown no fewer than two great kindnesses, and to a stranger._

Erick came to the table and slapped coins down before them. Mara slid out a hand and took half of them without looking. Her eyes were always on the food.

"Welcome to your first day as a waged man," said Erick. "You've done well," then turned to walk away.

"Wait," said Kenneth. "Erick? I noticed earlier that there is a full meal left in the pots."

"That will be saved for the morning."

Kenneth pushed his coins towards Erick. "Unless I buy it now."

"That's your day's wage, son," said Erick. Mara looked up at Kenneth and frowned. If he had been looking at her, he would have seen her slightly shaking her head.

"I choose to use it to fill my belly tonight."

Erick snatched back the coins in case Kenneth was in danger of changing his mind. "As you wish. A full meal, coming up."

Kenneth sighed to himself, then met Mara's perplexed gaze.

"What?"

She looked back at the scraps. "Nothing," she said. "I'm saving my wages, is all."

"He's very clever, you know," said Kenneth. "Only paying us enough to use it to feed ourselves. I don't agree with it, but will live with that for now."

"Keep your voice down," she whispered. "You only just started here, you know."

"You're right," he said, sighing again. "Again, you save my life," he added with a wink.

"Stop that," she muttered. "I'm not 'saving your life' or being a 'good woman' or... I'm only tired."

"And hungry."

"That, too."

Eventually Erick was back, with a plate of the final meal, and set it down for Kenneth.

"Ah!" said Kenneth, pulling it closer. "Thank you, Erick!"

"You'll be cleaning the dishes yourself, now."

"Of course.  Er..." Kenneth started. Erick stopped and looked back only a little. "I don't suppose we have any utensils?"

"Utensils?" said Erick. "Are you talking about forks and spoons?"

"I thought we had some."

"'We' don't," said Erick. "Customers only. Your fingers are good enough. Remember to finish cleaning and locking up, you two." Then he left for his room and shut the door.

"You expected utensils?" she said.

"Er... I thought he might allow us to use them, that's all," said Kenneth, and then proceeded to transfer half of his food onto Mara's plate.

"Hey - what are you doing?" she said.

"Repaying a kindness," he said. "I don't like being in debt, either."

"I told you, you don't owe m-"

"So you say," he said. "But it was still a debt, in my eyes.  But - if you're not hungry," he added, and reached for her plate. She yanked it back and all but covered it with her whole body.  Kenneth paused, then smiled. "Dear lady, it was in jest," he said. "What kind of a man would I be to steal from you?"

"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "Most of the ones I've known?"

"Surely not."

"Surely... yes."

She ate silently for the next few minutes, only partly aware that he was watching her and not eating his own half-meal. Then he reached out a hand and touched one of hers. She started and pulled it away.

"No!" she said emphatically enough to startle _him_. "Don't touch me."

"I... Forgive me," he said. "I was only trying to show a kindness. But you're right: that was too forward of me. It'll not happen again."

"Father told me," she said, "Never to let a man touch me. You hear?"

"I hear, I hear," he said. "It'll not happen again."

She said nothing, but resumed eating. Years of hunger had taught her to eat quickly, giving no one else a chance to steal any.  In her mind she knew that Kenneth would not steal from her, but in her heart, this was not yet learned.  Still...

"I suppose I should thank you," she said finally. Kenneth had the last of his meal in his mouth, and hurried to chew and swallow it.

"For what?"

"For sharing this. Your food."

"Oh. The pleasure is mine," he said. "And I realized: last night. You didn't buy the meal you brought me, did you?"

"No," she said. "It was whatever we had left. Uh, the scraps, like tonight, I mean."

" _Your_ scraps."

"Well, there was," she said, using her finger to collect the last specks of food on her plate, "More last night than tonight. I mean, before you bought that."

"Still-"

"Kenneth," she said, avoiding his gaze. "I said, don't make it... more than it was. It was only... I felt-- bad for you. That's all."

"Fair enough," he said, and another silence followed. "Shall we finish off the chores, then?"

******************

Kenneth was duly reminded of the dangers of lighting their candle without checking the flour. The last thing he needed on his first day of work was to blow up himself and his new friend. Erick would never let him live that  down. But now there was a logistical problem to solve: there was room for two cots in the storage room, but only _just_. They would need to be squeezed right beside each other, leaving no room for either of them to move much, if at all. And it was just dumb luck that another bed sheet was found for Kenneth.  He would be covered, at least, if not kept much warmer.

"I'm missing that room behind us already," said Kenneth.

"Well, you can't afford that, too, so this is it."

"Yes, I understand," he said. "Yet I'm a bit concerned."

"Why?"

"Well, it's..." he began, "That is, you've made it very clear that you won't abide being 'touched,' but we have to keep these cots so close to each other that..."

"Ah," she said, rubbing an arm, "Well, it's unfortunate, but-"

"Wait; I know!" said Kenneth, and he started grabbing one of the tall shelves. "I think if we-"

"What are you doing?"

"I think we could reposition some of the shelves in here to make more room-"

"Wait, wait, no, no-"

"No, really.  See?  Here, push on the other side and-"

"No, no, stop it-"

"It'll only take a moment-"

"STOP IT!" she shouted, then clamped her hands over her mouth.

"Please, Mara, I'm only trying to help our situation," said Kenneth, who had at least stopped tugging at the shelves. And then Erick's voice behind him made him jump.

"Is there a problem?"

"Wha-! Er... No, no, Erick," said Kenneth. "Please forgive me if you were disturbed."

"Are you trying to rearrange the room?"

"Uh... no, not anymore," said Kenneth, pushing the shelf back. "We were only trying to make more room in here. For the cots."

"No, you'll have to leave the shelves alone," said Erick. "You two can stay awake all night if it suits you, but no more noise."

"I'm not staying awake all night!" Mara said. "I'm sleeping right now!"

"Uh..." said Kenneth, glancing back at her. "Yes, we won't be up all night. Again, we'll not disturb anyone. Good night, Erick."

Erick looked at Mara as if for assurance. She nodded, and, satisfied that she was unthreatened, Erick nodded to Kenneth. "Good night," he said, and returned to his room, but more slowly than usual.

Kenneth sighed and turned back to Mara. "That was kind of him to show concern for you."

"What concern?"

"Well, he came here because you cried out," said Kenneth. This only puzzled her. "To see if you were unharmed? To...? Never mind. This still leaves us with how to arrange the cots so that-"

"You know, it doesn't matter," she said. "I'm too tired for this. Touch me all you like."

Kenneth cocked an eyebrow at that, but Mara had turned away to arrange the sheet for her cot. Then she spun around, full of distress.

"Ah, I can't believe I-!" she said. "I didn't mean-! No, _don't_ touch me all you like! _Don't_ -"

"Mara," said Kenneth in as soothing a voice as he could manage, "Dear, sweet Mara, I know what you meant. I swear I will do nothing to make you think that I'm taking advantage. If I must sleep on the floor to prove my word, I shall."

"No," she said, calming herself. "Don't mind me. I'm being sssstupid," she stammered, struggling to get that last word out. "Don't sleep on the floor. It's not 'touching,' it's only... how we have to sleep."

With a shared sigh the two of them climbed onto their respective hard, cool cots and struggled a bit to keep their sheets from getting tangled. Kenneth was the closest to the candle, so he blew it out and wrapped himself up as tightly as he could.

There was a minute of silence. Then: "Kenneth," Mara murmured.

"Hm?"

"I'm not 'dear' or 'sweet,'" she said.

"If you wish," he whispered. "But neither are you 'stupid.'  Good night."

*******************

Kenneth bought his dinner again with his day's wages, and again insisted on sharing it with Mara. Although appreciative of the extra food, she was also concerned.

"You spend your money every day, and you'll never have any for later."

"I can't help that I'm so hungry," said Kenneth. "And perhaps someday he'll raise our wages so I can save at least some of it. But you: you seem very careful to keep your money. Here, it's not easy. I admire that."

"Well, I learned very quickly that-" she started, and then leaned over to check that Erick's door was shut, "That I need extra money whenever I travel."

"Travel? To where?"

"Wherever the work is," she said. Kenneth was puzzled.

"I thought work was right here."

"I meant better work," she said. "Like where war has broken out."

"Where wa-? I don't think I understand," said Kenneth.

"Never mind," she said.

"War is a regrettable thing. I'm glad this kingdom has been at peace for as long as it has."

"It doesn't matter," she said. "I'm saying nothing of consequence. But back to our wages: I know it's difficult, but you should resist the urge to spend your money as soon as you get it. Believe me, I struggle against the urge every day. But I feel better knowing that I have something extra."

"It sounds like you have a plan for it," he said.

"I wouldn't say that, exactly," she said. "I only... I like the idea that, perhaps, if I live long enough - and I'm not saying it's a certainty - but if it is, that I could still be able to pay for things. That is, even if I'm too old to work. I wouldn't have to depend on anyone."

"...My goodness," he said.

"You're about to laugh, I know, or say something to mock me," she said. "Well, I've heard all-"

"Do you hear me laughing? I think that's remarkable," he said. "In fact, you've... All right, you've inspired me. Starting tomorrow, I'll start saving my wages and live on our scraps."

"Hmph," she said. "I'll hold you to it, then."

*******************

"I told you to get him out of bed!" said Erick. Mara ran from the storage room and partly shut the door. From outside the room, Kenneth could be heard. That is, his dry-heaves could be.

"He's too ill to get out of bed!" she said. "He needs water or any other liquid we can get him. And another bucket!"

"Nonsense. Were you both drinking last night?" said Erick. "If you won't pull him out, I will."

"We were not drinking! Something's made him ill. Remember that he had scraps last night and didn't buy anything. Maybe he's ill from that."

"Are you saying _my_ food made him ill?"

"Does it matter why he's ill?" she said. "Please, Erick: let him rest today, and let me bring him some water and food."

Erick did not answer, but stood in the doorway and stared at Kenneth. Kenneth's color was particularly unpleasant, a mix of light flesh, grey and perhaps green, but it was difficult to confirm the last. He lay on his side on the cot, his back to the wall, visibly shaking. Mara had combined both of their sheets and covered him. Next to Kenneth was a bucket used to collect his vomit. Unbeknownst to Erick both Kenneth and Mara _had_ been up all night: Kenneth from illness, and Mara quietly leaving the room repeatedly to bring him water, which he had difficulty keeping down. She had also found a somewhat clean rag that she had been wetting and laying over his forehead.

"You do look quite a sight," said Erick. "Very well; rest today, but you forfeit your wages. And no vomiting on the food!"

"Erick... I would like to be able to work," said Kenneth, in a voice so weak it seemed to take all his strength, "But I fear that I lack the strength." Then he convulsed and leaned over the bucket to vomit, but only dry-heaved some more. Mara helped him lay onto his back and placed the wet cloth over his forehead again. Then she pulled up the covers to his shoulders.

"Try to rest," she whispered. "I'll bring more water and food as I'm able."

"Uhhhh, no food," he groaned.

"You need it," she said. "You... Just try to eat. I'll be back as soon as I can."

She left quietly and shut the door almost all the way.

"I'll see if there's medicine when I get our other supplies," she said, pulling on the various bags she used for errands.

"What do you mean?"

"An apothecary," she said. "I should see an apothecary, and see if he has medicine for Kenneth."

"Oh, come now," said Erick. "I'm this close to throwing him out."

Mara was stunned a few moments, and next spoke, not from anger, but a compassion that was not her custom. "Erick, please," she said quietly. "To cast him out is to kill him. He's been up all night, spewing his guts out. _I've_ been up all night, trying to help him. I'm exhausted before the day has begun. Please."

After an angry silence, Erick sighed and then fished out extra coins from his purse. He slapped them onto the counter. "Here," he said. "Get him whatever this will buy."

******************

Mara's day was spent seeing to the needs of the guests and trying to see to the needs of her coworker. It was after the last guest had finished his midday meal and lumbered back upstairs for a nap that Mara had the chance to check on Kenneth. She brought a pitcher of water, tack bread and a bowl of something with a comforting smell. He was on his back like before, his eyes closed, breathing heavily but at least clearly. She checked the bucket and saw that it was empty. There was another pitcher beside the bucket, half full of water. She set down her supplies on one of the shelves.

"Are you awake?" she whispered.

He took a deep breath. "Yes," he whispered, his eyes still closed. She removed the cloth from his forehead and felt it.

"I'm not certain, but I think your fever might have broken. You don't seem to be shaking. Are you still shaking?"

"Uhhhh," he groaned. "No, Don't think so. No."

"Good, very good." She picked up the first pitcher and poured some of its water over the cloth, wrung it out a little, and put it back on his forehead.

"Don't think I need this," he said weakly, and tried to remove it.

"Yes, you do," she said. "It's something I learned not long ago, and it's helped me before, too. If something works, then I do it."

Kenneth relaxed and let his arm drop. His eyes remained closed. He whispered, "You're too good to me."

"Quiet," she said. "Try to keep drinking. Are you able to hold down any water or food? I don't see anything new in the bucket."

"Don't know," he said. "Haven't tried drinking."

Mara sighed in frustration. "Don't be a fool," she said.

"Whaaaat? D'joo call me-?"

"I'm going to help you up," she said. "Come on." At first it was like wrestling with a drunkard in a dead weight, but eventually Kenneth came to his senses and struggled into a sitting position. He seemed unsteady enough at first to fall right back over, but then seemed to stabilize. Mara watched him a few more moments, then brought the bowl and tack bread over to him.

"Here," she said. "This is chicken soup. Some bread, too. It's hard, so you should dip it into the soup first."

"Didn't know we had chicken soup," he said. "I like it. Favorite meal as child."

"Not from here," she said. "I bought it from - I got it from somewhere else. Also, Erick paid for some herbs from the apothecary-" She brought her voice to a whisper. "(If you can believe that). I mixed them into the soup to make it easier. _Slowly_ \- sip it first. Make certain you can keep it down."

"Mara!" Erick called from outside. She grunted quietly.

"Coming!" she called back. "Um... Keep eating that," she said to Kenneth. "Slowly. I have to go back to work. If you need anything, just vomit."

"Ha ha," groaned Kenneth sarcastically. "Should be fine soon. Should be working."

" _No_ ," she said, pointing at him emphatically. "Do not leave the room. Eat, rest, and be healed. Or I'll kill you."

"Yes, m'Lady."

*******************

"I think it was the little bit of fish, or the little bit of pork, that I had last night," said Kenneth, his head propped onto his hand. "Or perhaps some of both." By the end of the day he had regained enough strength to stagger from the storage room and sit with Mara as she ate her scraps of the day. He did this in spite of her protests to keep resting and drinking water.

"I guess I didn't have either, then," she said. "Who knows what this stuff used to be before we get it? Anyway, I don't know if you were awake enough at the time, but your wages were forfeited because you couldn't work."

"Of course they were."

"I'm sorry," she said. "The day after you promise to eat only our scraps, you get ill. I suppose you could blame me for that."

"I'm not certain what kind of thinking needs to be employed to come to that conclusion," said Kenneth, his head still supported solely by his right arm.

"You know what I mean," she said. "If... It's your money. Of course you're free to do with it as you wish. I won't try anymore to tell you what to do with it."

Kenneth had no answer for her to that. She had offered him some of tonight's scraps, but when that almost brought on another convulsion, she quickly withdrew it. In fact she was wary of even trying any herself, but ultimately had no choice. Today had been a particularly exhausting day.

"Mara," Kenneth murmured after a long silence. "I understand and respect what you've said about 'being touched,' but I have a request." He slowly lifted his head until almost sitting up straight, if not for the lingering weakness.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," he said, "I was wondering if you might allow me to... hold your hand. Even if only briefly."

"...Why?"

"I'm very grateful to you," he said. "I was hoping you might allow me to show it."

"How is holding my hand showing gratitude? And you don't need to, anyway. You said you were grateful. That's enough."

"I suppose it should be," he sighed. "It's only... it would give me comfort. It's something my mother always did for us when..." His voice trailed off. If the light were better, Mara might have seen his eyes moistening, only a bit. "Never mind," he said with a wave. "Of course you're not my mother. I'm being silly."

She said nothing, but finished chewing and swallowing the last of her meal. Then she squeezed her right hand nervously before slowly moving it close enough for Kenneth to reach. But his eyes were closed again, so she had to muster the courage to clear her throat in an obvious way. He opened his eyes lazily.

No words. Only a small smile as he accepted her gesture, and gently took her right hand into his left. After a few moments he began to move his thumb slowly back and forth on the top of her hand. They were not meeting gazes at all; she stared at a distant spot on the floor while he stared at a wall. Then he broke the spell by speaking.

He murmured, "Are you certain you're not an angel?"

With a sigh Mara pulled her hand back. "Not that again," she said, and stood and brought her plate back to the kitchen. This time Kenneth said and did nothing to stop her, but kept to his thoughts.


	3. Daddy's Girl?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story So Far:
> 
> Kenneth learned not to eat the leftovers

\----------------------

For Kenneth it had been a good day. For one, he'd finally convinced Mara to let him help lug the water jugs to and from the well. It had also dawned on him the irony of regarding a day as "good" that had meant an increase in manual labor. She had agreed to share the chore, not relinguish it. That was a start. Still, and he knew better than to say it aloud, he really did hate the thought of a woman performing such arduous labor alone, when it was supposed to be a shared responsibility. And so it was, now.

For another, the day and evening had been quiet enough that he had the time and energy to play a little bit of his lute before sleeping. Mara seemed to be indifferent to his music, except when he tried to substitute _her_ name for the name of one of his song's heroines. It struck her as immodest, which she would not abide. Dejected, he put aside the instrument and prepared for bed.

Something in the corner of the room caught his eye. He pointed and chuckled.

"What's that over there?" he said. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear that was a broadsword."

Mara started and spun around. "What? Where?"

"Just behind you," he said, and she saw it and snatched it before he finished the phrase. She yanked up the sheets of her cot and then covered the object.

"It's nothing," she said. "Let's get to bed."

"Nothing? Then why be so quick to hide it?" he said, then with another chuckle: "Don't tell me I was right." She only glared at him and kept arranging the sheets. His smile faded. "Mara..."

"What??"

"Wha-? Why are you using that tone? I'm only curious. Of course it's not a broadsword, so what is it?"

"It's... a broadsword." Sometimes she hated her own hatred of lying.

"What? Show me."

"No."

"Why do you have a sword?" he lowered his voice into a whisper. "Please tell me that's not Erick's! Or worse: one of the guest's!"

"One of the-?? I am no thief! _It's mine_!"

Kenneth said nothing as Mara yanked back the sheets and held up her weapon. The scabbard, even in the dim candlelight, looked like nothing special: some old, worn leather with frayed straps. The grip and guard were utilitarian, with no ornamentation that he could see.

"Why do you have a sword?"

"My father gave it to me," she said, pulling it out just slightly before snapping it back into the scabbard with a clack. She held onto it while speaking. "I've had one for as long as I can remember. This one he gave me... I think I was 11, perhaps 12. It's always at my side when I sleep. But tonight I was s-s-stupid and forgot to hide it. Just forget about it. Let's to bed."

"I don't think I'm going to 'forget' that there's a weapon in our room," he said. "Why would your father give you a sword?"

"What's the matter with you?? Must you ask questions about everything you see??"

"Hey! I don't deserve that tone, woman!" said Kenneth. "I am not your enemy! And I just found out that you've been sleeping with a deadly weapon every night!"

She leaped to her feet and put her face inches away from his, with clenched teeth, flared nostrils, and rapid breaths. To her dismay Kenneth did not flinch. His expression was stern, not angry. Half a minute into their standoff, she fought to calm herself, slowing her breaths, biting her lip, breaking the gaze.

"'msorry," she muttered.

"I didn't hear what you said," he said.

"I'm-!" she said, her anger returning, which she fought to beat back. "Sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry. You're right; you-- didn't deserve that."

"Apology accepted," he said. "And truly, if this is not something you wish to discuss-"

"I don't, but I could at least tell you that my father gave me a sword, because he certainly didn't mean for me to be working at places like this," she said with a sigh. "I was meant to be on the battlefield, as he was."

"A soldier, you mean?" said Kenneth.

"Yes," she said. "Well... a soldier of no kingdom. Offering his- and then my- sword for whoever paid enough."

"A _mercenary_?" said Kenneth. "And he raised you to be one, too?"

"He preferred calling us 'warriors'," she said. "But... I suppose being paid to fight _is_ a mercenary, no matter what we want to be called."

"But you're a w--" Kenneth said, then caught himself. Mara only looked at him as if daring him to finish. "That is, no kingdom allows... well, women... to serve as soldiers."

"Right, no kingdom does, that I can find," she said. "Individuals, that's different. There's always somebody who wants to put together a fight. Well... not so much lately, not around here. I haven't found a good scrap in a long time. It's the only reason I work at places like this. It's that, or starve. I learned that the hard way."

"Where is your father now?"

She shrugged, then looked at the ground. "Dead. Gone. I'm not really certain."

"I'm so sorry," he said softly. "How old-?"

"I'm not looking for pity," she said.

"Not pity. Just condolences. Would you... mind if I asked what happened?"

She shrugged again. "Just part of wars and battles, you know?"

"I see."

"Do you?" she said. "Have you been a soldier?"

"I've... served my king, but have never been called to fight. As I said, Gildern has been at peace for a number of years."

"Good for you, then," she said. "Things were a little bit 'rockier' up north, where I'm from."

"Which kingdom?"

"Uhh... 'Breech,'" she said. "Hm. I hadn't thought of the name in a long time."

Kenneth seemed to ponder this a moment. "Breech," he said. "Yes, I've heard of it."

She shrugged. "All I know is that it was colder more than warmer, and not very good land. I don't remember seeing any farmers in my village, now that I think of it. It was all livestock and fish. My father was a 'warrior,' but he had some cattle, for milk and meat. But there was reason to keep his sword, because other villages and tribes were always fighting with each other. Sometimes us, sometimes them."

"Was your mother also a 'warrior'?" asked Kenneth.

Mara glared. "No," she said. "And don't ask about her."

"I had no intention of offending."

"I know," she said. "I'm just giving fair warning." She sat on the edge of Kenneth's cot and held the sword in front of her, tip on the floor. Sometimes she twirled it absent-mindedly while speaking. "As I said, Father raised me to take his place in battles. It's all I know. I mean, I ruined his life by being a girl and by killing my m--" She cursed quietly to herself, then clamped her mouth shut and looked at the floor again. Then looked up again, but not at Kenneth.

"Mara, you don't need to tell me what happened," said Kenneth softly. "I was merely curious."

"I'm fine," she said, twirling the sword again. "These are just things I hadn't really... thought about much until now. My first real battle wasn't until my fourteenth, maybe fifteenth, year. I don't remember the day being much different than any other. It was summer, I think. Yes, it had to be summer, because it was warm enough that we didn't need our thick clothing, and there were some green here and there. That was 'summer' for us. And I remember... that is, I _don't_ remember hearing anything, but my father was very good at that. He had very good hearing. Good instincts, too. We were outside and... he was angry with me about something. But he always was, so it was nothing special. Nothing memorable. Then he looked off into the hills, and the next thing I remember, he was yelling at me to get into our hut and hide. Hide! I didn't know why he was saying that, but he grabbed some weapons, then yelled at me again to hide. To take cover. Then he ran back out, and truly, the door-skin had hardly flapped down when a blur of horses thundered by. Father yelled - actually, it was his battle roar - and then he was gone."

"I don't mean 'gone' as I said before," she said. "I mean that he was part of whatever battle was going on outside. Even from inside I could tell this was not just another raid from a village or tribe. These people were marauders. They were out for blood and God knows what else. I have no idea why. There was screaming, more horses thundering by, battle cries. Then I smelled smoke, so they were setting the village on fire, too! And... and my father, who'd taught me my whole life to fight, and be brave, and-- and-- told me to hide in our hut? As if I couldn't go out there and defend our own home?"

"I grabbed my sword," she said, and held up hers, "This very one - and pulled on whatever protection I could in a moment, and ran outside to help."

She fell silent suddenly and looked off into the distance. After a time Kenneth thought about prompting her for more, but decided to wait. "To this day I don't know who those marauders were," she said finally. "But they wanted blood. And it was everywhere. Blood, and flame, and... and smoke. Some of us were still fighting. I think most were dead. Or maybe taken. That happens a lot, taking women and girls. There was more groaning and screaming from the injured and dying than screams of fear. But off in the distance, I heard my father, still roaring his battle cry. He had gotten to high ground, which is good in a fight. And I don't really remember how, but I managed to run through all of that to get to him, without tripping on a body, or being overcome by smoke, or getting killed, for that matter."

"I reached him," she said, "And I was so proud of myself for making it there. So proud that I was going to be fighting at his side. He had his back to me, so I don't think he knew yet that I was there. I just started swinging wildly, forgetting pretty much everything he'd taught me, until I suddenly _remembered_ what I was supposed to be doing. After that I was holding my sword properly, keeping my balance properly."

"There was... a man..." she said, her voice getting a bit lower, "One of the attackers. He was storming up the hill to get to us. I think my father was busy with some others. So... this was my moment, you know? I was excited at first, and then... it happened again. Whatever he taught me, it just... froze up in my mind. I think it's because that the closer the man got, the _bigger_ he was getting. And... look at me! See how tall that  I am. And the look on his face, and his eyes... This was no training or practice. This was Death, coming at me. Coming _for_ me."

"My mind froze up, and I _stuck_ out my blade," she said, miming the motion, "And did the stupidest thing anyone could do in a fight."

"You closed your eyes?"

Mara looked up, surprised. "Yes," she said. "That's exactly what I did. A lifetime of training, and I _closed my eyes_. I should be dead, or... horribly maimed, if nothing else. Instead, I felt a _push_ against my hand, and a noise like 'Uck!' I opened my eyes, and saw..." Oddly enough, she smiled and chuckled a little, "He had run right into my sword." She held it up again. "He had buried his own _neck_ into it, almost up to the guard. I'm not sure who looked more surprised: me, or him. In fact, he... looked at me, and I think he was trying to speak, but just gurgles of blood came out. Then I tried to pull out my sword, but it was harder than I thought it would be. It was stuck in there - stuck! - and then he started to fall onto me. But I managed to push him so that he rolled away from me, onto his back. Only then could I pull the sword out. And he was still alive. Still... gurgling away the last bit of his life."

"And instead of fighting more of them, I just... held my sword and stared at it," she said. "Stared at the blood. Watched it sliding down the blade. It was someone else's blood, on my sword, for the first time. And... those were the last thoughts I can remember of that day. Somebody grabbed me and started shaking me. I thought it was one of them, but I didn't even fight back. Then I finally looked up and saw that it was my father. He was... more enraged than I'd ever seen him, but for the first time, he wasn't striking me. Shouting, yes, but I couldn't tell you anything he was saying. I kept seeing that man instead, and his blood. And then I was falling backwards. I think my father pushed me away and I fell down the hill. At least, that's where I was lying, the next thing I remember. My head was so heavy; my ears ringing. I must have hit something on the way down and been knocked out."

"I don't know if it was the same day, or another," she said. "There was still smoke coming from the hill. It took me a while to get properly to my feet again. The slope of the hill didn't help, but eventually I got to the hilltop, and... my village was gone. Burned to the ground. Burnt and bloodied bodies everywhere. Most of them too burnt for me to recognize, even my father. The small bodies told me that children weren't spared, either. Livestock was slaughtered or missing. And... no father. Not that I could find. That's why I don't know if he's dead, or just _gone_."

She realized that she'd come to the end of that story, and was quiet. She gazed at the floor idly, spinning the sword, then looked up in curiosity when she heard someone sniffling. _Kenneth_?

"Are you crying?" she said.

"I... was," he said, rubbing his nose. "A little, yes. Your story was so moving."

"I wasn't trying to make you _cry_ ," she said. "I was just saying what happened."

"And 'what happened' moved me to tears," he said. "Did you listen to your own story? Anyone who could hear that and be dry-eyed is made of stone."

She sighed. "Father beat the tears out of me long ago. He said that they're weak. Like a woman. I can't remember the last time I cried over anything." She gasped. "Oh, no! I didn't mean to say that _you're_ weak or like a woman. I just didn't expect anyone to... uh..."

"I took no offense," he said. "I wasn't raised to believe that tears are a weakness. But... oh, Mara. I never would have imagined something like that happening to anyone, let alone you."

"And yet such things happen," she said, then forced a smile and a sad chuckle. "I have no idea why I told you all of that. I've never told anyone any of it before. But it was as if I couldn't stop, once started."

"Then I'm honored to be the one you shared it with. You lost an entire village. Everyone you ever knew or loved."

"I wouldn't say 'loved'," she scoffed. "People didn't like me much."

"Surely that can't be true."

She shrugged. "Taller than all the other children, the girl who was supposed to be a boy, a father who hated everyone," she said. "People knew to just avoid me."

"I'm so sorry."

"Back to pitying, I see," she said.

"I'm not-! _pitying_ you," said Kenneth."Yes, I'm greatly saddened by your story, but don't pity _you_. You're to be admired."

"Now I _know_ that I've kept us up too late," she said. "And for that, I'm sorry. The last thing I intended tonight was to rob us of sleep."

"Think nothing of it," he said. "As I said, I'm honored that you trusted me enough to tell your story. But, um..." he said, pointing to her sword. "You still mean to sleep with that beside you?"

For the first time she seemed contrite. "It's... not that I don't trust _you_ ," she said. "It just helps me feel safe."

"But now I don't feel safe."

She shrugged. "I've had it at my side every night, and you didn't know it," she said. "This is no different."

Kenneth frowned and folded his arms. "I still don't like it. But if it helps you feel 'safe,' I'll not push it. I won't tell Erick, either."

"Oh, he knows about this," she said with a wave. "He won't let me wear it out there, though. I don't like that, but then, I can also imagine some idiot grabbing for it if I had my hands full with food or drink. So... I grit my teeth and bear his rules."

"Hmph," said Kenneth, then was quiet in thought. Finally he unfolded his arms and shrugged. "I suppose it's to bed, then."

Mara was relieved that Kenneth had not noticed the small dagger she always kept in her boot. Nor had Erick, for that matter.


	4. Dark Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story So Far:
> 
> A burned village can ruin someone's day

\------------------------

Another good day: Kenneth saved his money and "feasted" on scraps, and did _not_ become deathly ill. But he also seemed more pensive throughout the day than usual. Hardly any words except about the business matters at hand. Even their evening meal was mostly silent. It would normally be a welcome change of pace for Mara, because he did love to talk, but by now she recognized it as something uncharacteristic for him. Perhaps she should act uncharacteristically, as well, and inquire after him.

In their room, after the candle had been blown out, she was still awake.

She whispered, "Kenneth?"

"Hm?"

"I was just wondering if you're well," she said. "That is, you haven't spoken much today. And then a bit sadly when you did."

"I'm fine," he said. "But thank you for asking after me."

"It wasn't my story, was it?" she asked. "Or is this a coincidence? I know that it's an unpleasant story, but see? I lived. I've kept on."

"It isn't that," he said. "Well... it is, a little. It got me to thinking about something."

"Nothing sad, I hope," she said.

"I'm afraid that it is," he said. "If I worked it out correctly, you lost your village and your people five years ago? Four?"

"Something like that," she said. "Yes. But I never closed my eyes during a battle again, I tell you that."

"Of course not," he said quietly. Then: "You weren't here five years ago, then? In this kingdom?"

"No, still up north."

"For the best, then," he said. "You might have heard of it later, in your travels, but five years ago, this kingdom was ravaged by a plague."

"Yes," she said. "I've heard people here speak of it. Mentions here and there. What-?"

"No one was safe," he said. "Low-born. High-born." He drifted off into thought a few moments, then was back. "I was the middle child of three: my brother, the eldest. Then myself, then our sister. She was behind me by two years, but my brother and I were so close in age, we were as twins. Mother even dressed us the same when we were boys. She and Father even sometimes confused us with each other, calling us by the other's name. And we behaved as brothers, of course: fighting, teasing, hunting together, wrestling, playing together. But our sister: we had sport with her as siblings will do, but most of the time we were powerless against her charms. We'd start with the teases and the japes, but every time, she would disarm us with her laughter and smile. We had no choice but to laugh and smile with her, then hug and kiss and play the rest of the day away."

"I can scarcely remember when she wasn't laughing or smiling," he said. "Or singing. It's why I learned to play the lute. I wanted to be able to join her in song. My brother, he never took to music as we did, but was kind enough to listen if we had a new song. She did, that is: she was able to come up with songs, and I struggled along to play her melody. You don't need to tell me that my singing is serviceable at best. But _her_ voice..."

Kenneth drifted away again. His breathing became a bit unsteady. Mara listened intently in the darkness, and was certain she heard him sniffling. Just once.

"I told you that a plague was here," he continued. "And that no one was safe. Not even us. Yet I never caught even so much as a rash, but had to watch my brother and sister... my-- best friends... wasting away, and there was nothing anyone could do. By the time they were confined to beds, I never left their sides, not for a moment. I played and sang for them till my fingers bled and my voice was a whisper. Told stories. Even told jokes. My parents begged me to take a break from them, at least for a little while, but I couldn't do it. Of course they were there, too - my parents, that is - talking to them, holding them in comfort. Holding _me_ in comfort. That's why I think of holding hands, and touching, as comforting. Thank you for letting me do that, Mara."

"I-"

"They couldn't be at their sides every moment, as I could," said Kenneth. "I pass no blame on them for that. They also needed to run the--- run our business. I had no duties but to Robert and Flora. And when Robert breathed his last..." he said, but trailed off. Then: "I'm grateful that I was there for him. Our parents were there, too, holding him, and me. We also managed to push Flora closer to him so she could touch him, too. And together we--" His voice quavered again, "We helped him pass on in peace."

"I promised Flora that I would there for her, too," he said, fighting to steady his voice. "Yet I kept holding out hope that she would beat this. Though she was small and delicate, I hoped against hope that her sheer _goodness_ would be enough to halt the plague's evil and cast it from the very kingdom itself." He scoffed at his own words. "The ignorance of a boy, yes? And one night, I was playing and singing for her, and I heard her trying to join in. It was her favorite song, you see, so I played very quietly so I could hear her. But then she started coughing. I stopped playing, but she kept coughing, until she spat up blood. _Blood_ , Mara. My parents were there at once, and I kept apologizing to them and her, thinking it was my fault she was in that state. Needless to say, I played nothing more; I didn't dare."

"It was her last day with us," he said, his voice unexpectedly calm now. "Back then you could never have warned me of it, because I wouldn't have listened, but now, thinking back, it's clear that it was her last day. Our parents knew it, I'm sure. Again they urged me to leave, to return to my own room. I think they were _this close_ to ordering me to do it, but didn't bring themselves to it. I'm not certain if that's for good or ill. But I'm delaying the inevitable, aren't I?"

Mara sniffled, but Kenneth continued as though not hearing it. "I'd promised to be there for her, as I had been for Robert. But... it was during the night. Late. Early. I don't know. All I know is that I'd fallen asleep, but when I woke up, I was in my own bed. And this seems amusing now, but I hadn't been there in so long, I didn't recognize it! I couldn't remember how I'd gotten there, or why I was there. In a panic, I ran out of the room and back to where my sister was. Dear, sweet Flora. My parents were there, weeping and trying to keep me out, but I forced my way inside. Flora was still there, but covered in white. The white shroud of death was covering her. I fell to my knees and wailed, demanding to know how I could've left her side. I... I think I even cursed my parents for letting me leave - no, for taking me to my room, when I needed to be at her side. They say that they tried to wake me, as Flora breathed her last, but couldn't, and they had someone carry me to my room. Because of that, I had broken my promise to her. My sweet, baby sister died without me at her side."

Kenneth was quiet now, and only then heard the sniffling and soft sobbing that Mara was trying to suppress.

"Mara?" he said.

"Mm?"

"I haven't made _you_ cry now," he said. "Have I?"

"Uhhhhhh...." she said. "I'm made of stone, remember? Tears beaten out of me?"

"I never said you were made of stone," he said. "But if you are shedding tears for Flora and Robert, I thank you."

"Not--- Not them," she said, wiping at her cheeks. "Or yes, for them. For everything. Everyone. You know what I mean."

"I do," he said. Because their cots were so close, when they laid side by side, _some_ part of their bodies were always touching. Their arms were touching now. Kenneth felt with his right hand for her left, then gently intertwined their fingers. Mara gasped quietly, but of surprise, not anger. She almost pulled away, but fought her usual instinct and let him bring her hand up to his mouth. He kissed it gently, then kept it at his chest.

He whispered, "Thank you."

Suddenly he realized what he'd done, and let go quickly.

" _I am so sorry!_ " he said. "I did that without asking, and-- You must be furious! Please forgive me."

"I'm not furious," she said, rubbing her fingers a little. "I'm not-- I'm fine," she said. "It was... I didn't mind it. And Kenneth?"

"Yes?"

"You don't blame yourself for what happened, do you?"

"I used to," he said. "In some small way, I still do. I still wonder why I lived when they didn't. My parents have wondered the same about themselves. Given the choice, a parent will offer his or her own life to save their child, but... not all such prayers are answered."

"Or they are," she said. "But with 'no?'"

"I suppose. You know, I gave up the lute for three years," he said. "I couldn't bear the sound of it. It reminded me too much of her. Her favorite songs caused me pain."

"But you're playing it now."

"Because I started to forget her," he said. "I don't mean _forget_ her. I mean that some of my memories of her were starting to fade. To grow dull. I started to forget the notes of our songs, and that frightened me. My efforts to make the pain go away ended up making it worse. So I picked it up again and relearned to play. I suppose as a way of honoring her memory. I think it may have helped our parents, too, to listen to them."

"So... your parents still live," she said, "But you're their last child?"

"Yes."

"I'm surprised that they let you leave their sight anymore. How is it that you're here, sleeping on a hard cot instead of with them?"

"Ah," he said. "That is in itself another story. But its short version is that I'm out in the world now to find my own way. To your point, it took a very long time to convince them to let me leave. I will return home someday. But there are things I must accomplish first."

"What are you supposed to accomplish?"

Kenneth was quiet for a moment, as though searching for the right words. "There are decisions they expected to make for me, that I would rather make for myself. Perhaps it's because I'm now their only child, or perhaps in spite of it, that they're willing to give me that chance."

"Decisions such as, whether to be a minstrel for a living?" she said.

"Was that a tease?" he said.

"Perhaps."

"Then touché," he said. "And yes, something like that. Of course I was too naive to realize that I'd be near-starving in a week's time. The people here could learn to be more generous."

"Perhaps they, too, are still grieving from the plague," she said. "And you're right, I've heard people mention it in passing, and so knew that there'd been one before, but not as recently as that. It explains why most people here are a bit... glum? I'm not sure if that's the word."

"It serves," he said. "Of course I can't blame them. As I said, no one was spared. Everyone lost someone. If not related by blood, then by friendship."

They lay in the darkness in silence now, side-by-side, still touching arms because of the cots' closeness. Then Kenneth felt her fingers tentatively reaching for his. First she withdrew them, and then touched again, little by little. He kept his hand relaxed all the while, and smiled to himself when she finally intertwined her fingers with his. Then she squeezed, briefly and gently, but it was still a squeeze.

After a minute he brought her hand up to his chest again, paused, and then up to his lips and kissed it.

"You said that you don't mind this?" he said.

"...No," she said. "But why the hand?"

"In polite society, it's how a man greets a woman," he said.

"Oh, and you're from 'polite society'?" she said.

"My parents were -- are, that is -- rather particular about manners." He kissed her hand again and let it rest on his chest.

"What about women greeting men?" she asked.

"Curtsies," he said.

" _Curtsies_?"

"Or... you know, just a 'Well met' or other small greeting," he said quickly. He kissed it again.

"Is that comforting to you?" she asked.

"Is it comforting to _you_?"

"Um..." she said. Kenneth stopped kissing but still held her hand gently, and waited. She whispered, "Yes. I... I think it's nice."

"Is this?" he said, and leaned closer to her, and kissed her shoulder. She only looked at him curiously.

"No," she said. "I mean, it doesn't feel like anything."

"What about this?" he asked, and leaned in closer. Now her instincts fired up again. She didn't tug away her hand or recoil, but did see that he was leaning closer to her face, and quickly turned her head away. His lips landed on her cheek.

"Oh," she said in small surprise. "That was... fine, I think." He started to lean in again. "W-w-w-wait, Kenneth. Wait. I... You know that I've never... My father made me promise never to..."

"I know," he said. "And truthfully? Neither have I. Kissed a woman, that is."

"Oh," she scoffed. "Of course you have. I mean, you're so... so..."

"'So' what?"

"You're so..." she said. "What some women would consider handsome."

After a moment, he started to chuckle softly.

"Oh, don't laugh at me," she said.

"I'm not," he said. "Thank you. I'm flattered that you think 'some' women would find me handsome. I think that all men would find you beautiful."

"Oh, ha ha," she said mirthlessly. "Many women, then. Um, most women. Just women in general, is that enough?"

"I only care about one of them," he said. "Does she think I'm handsome?"

"Well, I wouldn't know _that_ ," she said, then groaned. "Oh. You must think I'm so stupid."

"Never."

"Um..." she said, shifting uncomfortably on an uncomfortable cot. "Yes. Yes, 'she' does. I think you're... handsome. You know, in a handsome way." She groaned again and muttered to herself, "Oh, that really was stupid." Then to him: "But 'all' men couldn't possibly find me beautiful. Not even one."

"You wound me, Mara," he said. "You imply that I'm not a man?"

"Of course not," she said. "I mean, of course you are. I've just never heard anyone describe me as 'beautiful.'"

"I'll describe you that way every day, if you'll let me," he said, and leaned in again. She gasped and put her hand on his lips, but only to stop him and not push him away.

"Wait-wait!" she said, and then withdrew her hand. "You're... trying to kiss me, are you?"

"Yes."

"I said I don't know what to do," she said. "I don't know how. What if you end up hurt?"

"I very much doubt that," he said. "And I don't know how, either, except from watching others. Please tell me if I'm doing it right." He closed his eyes and leaned in. He heard her gasp and briefly pull away, but eventually she relaxed. Their lips touched, and she gasped again, then relaxed her lips enough to let him kiss them properly.

He opened his eyes and leaned back. Her eyes were open now, too, unless she had never closed them.

"How was that?" he asked.

"It was... I don't know," she said. "Interesting?"

" _Interesting_?"

"Was that the wrong word?" she said. "Yes, it was. 'Interesting.' What was I thinking? It was... Oh, I can't find the words."

"Yes or no, then," he said. "Was it pleasant?"

She nodded her head, then realized that it might be difficult to tell in the darkness. "Yes," she said. "Very."

He leaned towards her again, but the sides of their cots were wooden rods, surrounding drooping fabric, making it difficult to find a comfortable position. With a sigh Kenneth got up from his cot and leaned over to collapse it and lay it on the ground.

"What's wrong?" she said. "Why are you doing that?"

"Will you sit up?" he said. She did so, hesitantly, unsure if he was frustrated, or worse, angry. After she was sitting up, her back against the wall, he sat beside her. "Thank you," he said, and put a hand on her shoulder. Then with his other hand, he touched her cheek and gently guided her towards him.

"Oh," she said. "I see what you're-" but was cut off as they met again in a kiss. This one lasted, and both novices took their time to adjust their positions, the shapes of their mouths, how they breathed, how they held each other, everything, until in time, they reached the perfect balance of mutual pleasure.

Neither of them were aware of how much time had passed by the time they finally parted, breathed in deeply as though they'd forgotten to take breaths, and rested their foreheads against each other's. Mara kept her eyes closed; Kenneth, open.

He whispered, "And how was that?" There was silence for a few seconds, and then Mara chuckled. She opened her eyes and gazed into his, as well as one could in darkness.

She whispered, " _Very_ pleasant."

It occurred to both of them that they might not be getting any sleep that night, but neither of them cared.


	5. An Unexpected Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story So Far:
> 
> Pleasantly interesting, or interestingly pleasant?

\-------------------

Mara was woken up by several knocks on the storage room door. She awoke with a start, and was disoriented to find that she had been sleeping in a sitting position. In fact, sitting next to Kenneth, who was still asleep, and with her left hand holding his right. Of the two, she was the lighter sleeper, but she'd been that way all her life, by necessity.

She stood up, lost her balance because his hand still held hers, and flumped back onto the cot, her head smacking the wall a bit. She winced and held her head, then fumbled again to stand up from the cot. This time Kenneth's hand let go of hers. She glanced back to see him falling over, still asleep, as she made for the door.

Erick was preparing to knock again when she threw open the door. This startled him a bit.

"What are you two-?" he said.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm sorry. We're sorry. Sleep overtook us, nothing more."

"Is that so?" he said.

"Yes," she said firmly, pushing past him to start the work day. "It is so. Are we late?"

"Not especially," said Erick, then pointed inside of the room to Kenneth, who was now awake but still groggy. "But _he_ will be in a moment."

"Not so!" groaned Kenneth. "I'm awake. I'm up. Good morning, Erick!"

*******************

Erick and Kenneth were downstairs, cleaning the dining area after breakfast. Mara was upstairs to start cleaning the guest rooms. Then Kenneth heard her soft steps as she came downstairs. He paused in his work to watch her. She was lost in thought while coming down and was a little surprised to catch him staring at her. But then he grinned at her; it was that big, broad, friendly grin that he used to have when he first came to town. Now it had returned, but this time there was much more than mere friendship behind it. Mara paused, and suddenly a warm tingle that started from the bottom of her spine shot up her back, straightening her up and bringing her lips to a smile. Not the small, forced, or sad smiles she'd been managing so far. A full, big, broad, dimpled smile. For him. The light from one of the windows caught her pure, green eyes just enough that they seemed to sparkle. All of this lasted a second at most, but Kenneth would never forget that moment. It was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

Just as quickly, she was embarrassed by what she had done, and forced her expression to become neutral again. She looked about nervously before heading to the back room for more cleaning. But Kenneth kept watching her even after she disappeared from view. Then Erick was beside him, clearing his throat.

"Are you planning to do any work today?" he said, snapping Kenneth from his reverie. Kenneth mumbled an apology before resuming his chores absent-mindedly, since his mind was entirely elsewhere.

***************

This time it was Kenneth who had been charged with the task of lugging the water jugs. Mara didn't want him to do it alone, not to prove yet again that she wasn't weak, but because she had come to prefer his company for that chore. But there was always other work, so she went to chop food in the kitchen, but Erick called her over to him instead. He stood in the doorway of his bedroom-slash-study, and waved his hand as though indicating it to her.

"What do you think?" he asked. She peered inside intently, wondering if she was meant to find something amiss. Then she straightened up and shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know what you're showing me. Did I miss something when I cleaned last?"

"Not that," he said. "Looking at this room, would you say that it could use a woman's touch?"

"I'm afraid that I wouldn't know about that," she said. "I'm not very-"

"I think it could," he said, leaning against a wall. "It's been such a long time. Mara," he said, straightening up, "I am a frugal man, and it's served me well over the years, but I realize now that I've not been as generous with you as I should have been."

"Oh," she said, looking down briefly, "You're not as bad as you think. That is, I've worked for men who were quite... unpleasant."

"But you shouldn't have to," he said. "You needn't go from town to town, looking for anywhere and anyone to hire you. You can stay here. In fact, you can stay-" he pointed to the room itself- " _here_."

She peered at him, then into the room, and also pointed. "Here?"

"Yes," he said. "I... What I mean to say, is that I shouldn't have been making you sleep on a hard cot or feed on scraps, like a dog. I've been thoughtless and ungenerous to you. I should have let you stay in the back room, with a real bed and a window, and full meals."

"Mm, it's not too late to _start_ ," she offered.

"That's good to hear," he said. "I know I should do better now. I've... not been with a woman since I lost my Eleanor, rest her soul. And my Elaine, rest her soul... She would be about your age now, I think."

"Oh, said Mara. "I didn't know that. I'm sorry."

"I've been a fool to stay alone for this long," he said. "That's why... This room. It can be yours, too. In fact, the inn itself. You won't even need to work much, but mostly order the worker around. Or workers."

"Wh-- What are you saying?" she said. "You're giving me the inn?"

"It would be in your name, yes," he said.

"Erick: are you dying?"

"What? No, I'm not dying," he said, then muttered to himself: "Not that I know of." To her: "Why do you think that?"

"Then why give me the inn?" said Mara. "And I agree that your room is very nice, but where would you sleep?"

"Where would--?" he said, then sighed. "You're really not that bright, are you?"

"Wh- Hey!" she said. "It's not my fault that I don't understand what you're saying."

"I'm saying," said Erick, "That I'd like you to marry me."

Mara swallowed once, then froze in place. Erick could have waved a hand in front of her face, and she would not have reacted. Instead he waited half a minute, then poked her in the shoulder. This got some reaction, but not much.

"Mara? Did you not hear me?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," said Mara, swallowing again. "I heard you."

"I can understand why this might surprise you," he said, began to pace slowly. She nodded to herself. "I may have seemed to be inattentive, or... dare I say indifferent, to you, but I was not. It's only that it's been so long for me, I fear that I'd lost the ability to speak with women. And here I am, getting older, with no wife, no children. No _heirs_. This inn has been in my family for generations, and I'm in danger of ending that heritage. And here you are, working for me for months, and it took me this long to see it."

"See... what?"

"You, of course," he said. "All of you. Young. Pretty. Ready for marriage."

Mara threw up her hands and tried to speak, but all that came out were a string of nonsense syllables. Then she shut her eyes, slowed her breathing, and tried again. "I wouldn't call myself," she said, "'Ready for marriage.' That-that-that-that is not something I... think of. That I've ever thought of. I think."

"Yes, because you're a mighty mercenary, who must travel wherever there's a battle and offer your sword," said Erick.

"I would-- warn you against mocking that," she said. "Erick."

"You're of marriageable age, girl," said Erick. "Of child-bearing age. Your youth and beauty won't last forever, nor the fertile years. I'm not a _rich_ man - you know that - but I can offer you comfort, and security. A comfortable bed and full meals every day. What more can a woman want?"

"Yes, what more?" she said, forcing a laugh. "Er, you know that I'm, uh, taller than you. That doesn't bother you? I mean, it bothers most men. It seems to."

"Do I seem bothered by it?"

"No," she said, and forced another laugh. "I suppose not, hm?"

"I still wonder what your answer is," he said. "To my proposal."

"I-I-I don't know, Erick," she said. "I-I-I wasn't expecting this. At all. Any of this. I-- didn't even think that you _liked_ me."

"I do," he said. "Very much. I only-- haven't been very good at showing it. Out of practice, you know."

"Is this something that you've, uh... mentioned to Kenneth?" she asked.

He scowled. "Why would I tell him anything? This is your business and mine, not his."

"Oh," she said. "No reason. I was only curious if he might know anything about this."

"Why should that matter?"

"Um," she said and shrugged. "No reason."

"Ah," said Erick, folding his arms. "You fancy the penniless minstrel."

"And that's," she said, "His business and mine?"

"Hm. An amusing retort," said Erick. "Tell me, Mara: what does he offer you? Other than a handsome smile and his music, does he offer you security? Comfort? Does he even have a home of his own?"

"He... says that his parents still live, and so I imagine that he also has a home. A family home?"

"He lives with his parents?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. It wasn't mentioned."

"A man needs a business," said Erick. "He needs the means to support his family, to keep them fed, and clothed, and warm, and safe. To provide for his children so they can grow up healthy and strong."

"You keep mentioning children," she said.

"Well, yes," said Erick. "People get married and have children. It's what they do."

"Ah. Yes," she said. "Well-- I confess I'd thought about children less than about marriage."

Erick sighed and pinched his eyes together. Mara waited in awkward silence, looking about nervously. Then: "I should return to my chores now," she said. "Right?"

"Wrong," he said. Mara tried to swallow, but her throat was tightening. Erick opened his eyes and looked at her. "That is, why don't you go out into town instead, and think about this? Walk around, shop, eat, whatever you wish."

"Don't work? But who'll-?"

"The boy will," said Erick. "Kenneth. He can handle a day of his own. Lord knows he owes you a day."

"Why?"

"You forgot the day he was sick, and was in bed all day?"

"Oh," she said. "I didn't 'forget,' I just didn't think of it as 'owing' me."

Erick sighed again. "Mara, stop working today, and do as you please. In fact," he said, and walked over to a chest besides his worktable, where he counted the day's money. He unlocked the chest with a small key and removed an even smaller chest inside, which was also locked. He used a different key for that. Mara heard the jingle of silver coins. Erick turned to her, and held out his hand. There were silver coins, seven of them. He had grabbed them without even counting.

"Here," he said, "Take these and go out. Do whatever you like with them, buy whatever you like with them. It doesn't matter to me."

"Oh, Erick, I could never pay this back-"

"You're not repaying me," he said. "Do you not know a gift when you see it?"

"I suppose not," she said, then took them all hesitantly. "I mean, thank you. Thank you, Erick!"

"Go on," he said, waving her away. "Think about what I've said. Be back before nightfall!"

"Thank you!!" she shouted back to him, already running out the front door.

****************

Mara saw Kenneth outside as he lugged one of the water jugs back from the well. She almost went over to him to help, and to tell him what had happened, but something stopped her. Erick did have a point: this was her business, not Kenneth's. Or wasn't it? What would he think if she accepted Erick's proposal? Would he leave or stay and keep working at the inn? No, of course not. Kenneth had already mentioned returning home; he would leave the inn and return home.

That thought gave her spine a cold chill. But why? Erick was the one who'd asked about marriage, not Kenneth. And Mara was a pragmatic woman, always. Erick _could_ offer comfort and safety and all that he had talked about, even though he kept mentioning children for some reason. But she had looked after herself for years now; it was not as if she _needed_ a man to take care of her, as men were supposed to do for their wives. So why was she even contemplating his question? She didn't want to be a "wife" like he described, who apparently did nothing but order people around. She knew what it was like to _be_ ordered around, and found it distasteful thinking of doing the same.

In her mind she tried to compare the two men, and only ended up frustrating herself. Barely a month ago she wasn't thinking about men at all, and now couldn't get either one from her head. Or really, one in particular, but Erick's question kept coming back: What _did_ Kenneth offer her? What more than a heart-melting smile? Or a willing ear? Or kind words? Or respect? Or infinite patience? Or a loving heart? Or luscious li-

"Miss?" someone near her called out. " _Miss!!_ "

She snapped from her thoughts and looked over. A man was gesturing to her and pointing behind her. She looked and then gasped at the horse's face that was right _there_. The merchant driving his cart had managed to stop his beast in time to avoid running her down, but he did not look happy about it. Without realizing it, she had wandered onto a main road and stopped there, oblivious to her surroundings.

She silently cursed herself and stepped onto a walkway. The cart passed. She nodded in thanks to the helpful passerby, then continued walking, now careful not to get _too_ lost in thought. _Stupid men!_ she thought. _Thinking about them almost got me killed!_

She was careful to keep the coins in her purse from jingling, lest thieves or pickpockets take notice. Silver has a distinct ring to it that called attention like rats to rubbish. She felt for her sword out of habit, and momentarily panicked when she didn't feel it at her side. After a few seconds she remembered that it was back at the inn, still in the storage room. She started going back to retrieve it, but stopped herself. She still needed time to sort out her thoughts, and had gone out every day now without her sword, anyway, for running errands. But when she needed her "safety blanket" the most, it was gone.

Years of lean living made her disinclined to toss money about, even for an employer-sanctioned spending spree. She contemplated spending but one of the coins and saving the rest. He _did_ say it was a gift, after all, and that he didn't care what she did with it. Or she could spend two and bring back a pretty good sampling of food for herself and Ke--

She sighed and found a bare wall to lean against. _He's as poor as I am_ , she thought. _Be practical, stupid girl! Money is more useful than a loving embrace. Stop thinking about that! But I'm not afraid of work; I hate being idle, so it's not as though I expect him to support me. I was already supporting him in there. What about his parents? I couldn't tell if they're poor, too. Can a poor person buy a lute? I don't know what they cost. Why am I fretting about lutes?? Is he even welcome back home? Was he exiled? Why am I fretting about this, too? Erick's the one who asked, not Kenneth; I should be thinking about him. But why would he ask me? Why would anyone ask me? I've done nothing to make anyone think I want to be asked._

It was scarcely noon, and Mara was already exhausted. But she wandered some more and ended up across town, at the better inn with the better food, spending two of the coins for a veritable feast. She ate slowly, for hours instead of minutes, allowing her to finish all of it in one sitting, and also for more time to think. But Erick had bade her to return by nightfall. The sun was setting already. She pulled out one more coin and ordered a meal that she could carry back with her.

She had also decided what to do.

**************

By the time Mara got back to the _Eleanor Elaine_ , the lanterns had been lit. She hurried back inside. Guests had come down for dinner, as well as some of the local regulars. Kenneth was bustling the food and drink with practiced ease. He saw her enter and paused to greet her with another heart-melting smile. That same warm tingle began at the base of her spine, but she suppressed the urge this time to respond in kind, and only nodded in greeting. Kenneth looked puzzled, but quickly returned to his duties.

Mara hurried her sack of extra food into the storage room and laid it on her cot, then rushed to the kitchen to see if there was any work to be done. Erick was busy preparing the food, but saw her enter.

"You're back," he said.

"Yes. What do you need?" she said. "Are there any orders ready? Should I clean something?"

"I gave you the day off," he said.

"And now it's evening," she said. Kenneth came in to set some dirty dishes into the tub. He paused as he passed Mara, and smiled again, tucking a hand under her chin. This time she couldn't resist, and beamed back at him. This seemed to satisfy Kenneth; he headed back into the dining room.

"How was your day-now-evening, then?" said Erick. Maybe he had not seen what Kenneth did?

"Um," she said, putting on an apron, "Not as relaxing as I'd hoped."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "Did you think about what we discussed?"

"I did," she said, taking some plates from the tub and scrubbing them. "But should we get through dinner before talking about it?"

Erick started to answer, but she had a point: it was still busy and there were customers to please. "Yes, yes, that's fine," he said, and spoke no more of it for the time being. Neither did she.

**********************

After guests and regulars had had their fill, and Erick was satisfied that there was naught to do but clean, he removed his apron and motioned to Mara to follow him. On the way she looked back to see if Kenneth saw them. He did, and paused to watch, but she could not read his expression. They entered Erick's room, and Erick turned to look back at Kenneth as he shut the door.

**********************

Kenneth had finished the cleaning for the night and had brought his bowl of scraps into the storage room, when Mara emerged from Erick's room and shut the door behind her. Erick did not come out; perhaps he was in for the night. Kenneth also failed to read her expression when she entered their storage/bedroom. He held up his bowl to her in a silent offering. She held up a hand and shook her head. He set down the bowl and went to her, holding her shoulders and kissing her in greeting. He noticed that there was no 'life' in her response.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. "You were talking to Erick, yes?"

"Yes," she said. "Did he tell you anything? About today, I mean."

"He told me that he gave you the day off," said Kenneth. "A day of no work. How was it? No one has earned it more than you."

"I had a lot to think about today," she said, "So it wasn't as relaxing and care-free as I would have liked."

"Is it something you want to talk about?" he asked.

"Not yet," she said. "How was _your_ day? You worked the inn by yourself, yes? I hope it wasn't as busy all day as it was tonight."

"Not especially," he said, rubbing his neck and shoulder. "But now, I don't know how you did it by yourself all that time. What was it, three months? Four months? How did you do it?"

She shrugged. "I just... did it, you know," she said. Kenneth nodded and then pointed to the sack she had brought in from the nicer inn across town.

"Well, now you can relax, and enjoy the extra food you brought," he said. "And I swear that I've eaten none of it."

"Oh, that's yours," she said. "I brought that for you. Sorry, I didn't get a chance to tell you."

"I couldn't take all that," he said. "Please, join me."

"You're the one who's been working all day," she said. "Besides, I ate well enough today; believe me. Stop staring at me: Eat! Eat!"

"Yes, ma'am!" said Kenneth, and happily emptied the sack and started picking through its contents.

Mara watched him enjoy every morsel like a hungry man would when offered a feast.

"Erick asked me to marry him."

Kenneth stopped eating, and stared wide-eyed. "Erick? Did you say he asked you to marry him? Just now?"

"This morning," she said. "It's why he gave me the day off, actually. He wanted me to think about it."

"And did you?"

"Yes, I did," she said sadly, and sighed again. "I spent all morning, all day, only thinking about it. I don't know where it came from. All this time I worked here, he never said anything, or showed anything."

"I didn't think he even _liked_ you," said Kenneth.

"That's what I said to him!" she said. "But he said that he always has, but didn't know how to show it. And then, offered me the whole inn. That is, if I married him, he'd give me the inn, and that I wouldn't have to work, but could be the boss of his other employees."

"Giving you the whole inn," said Kenneth. "A woman could be quite tempted by such an offer."

"He kept talking about children, too."

"Well... if you two married, then children would surely follow," said Kenneth.

"He said that, too," said Mara. "Are you sure you weren't talking to him?"

"I swear to you that I did not. I'm only agreeing about marriage and children."

"Until this morning, I scarcely gave a thought about either one," she said. "Then suddenly my head is filled with thoughts like that, all day. And now it's night, so that, too."

"Those are natural things for people to think about," said Kenneth. "I can't believe you never once thought about marriage."

"I didn't say never. Only scarcely. There wasn't much cause for me to think of such things. And now..." Her thoughts drifted off, taking her voice with them.

"Mara? Dare I ask your answer to him?" said Kenneth, biting his lip. "Do you have an answer?"

She smiled sadly. "You may dare," she said. "I said no."

Kenneth's eyes went wide. "You-- You said no?" he asked, his voice rising, his breath getting faster. He grabbed her arms again and held on tight, laughing. "Mara, I could kiss you! In fact..."

He pulled her closer quickly into a kiss that became deeper with every moment. When they finally pulled apart, it was as if they had burst from water and were able to breathe again. They closed their eyes and rested their heads together, forehead to forehead. Mara was the first to look up.

She whispered, "There's still a problem. I don't have a job anymore." She showed a small shrug. "But he was kind enough to let me sleep one more night here. But then I must be gone at sunup. Er... Kenneth..." She tried and failed to look him fully in the eyes. "I won't ask, but... I'm hoping that... I wouldn't leave alone."

He showed a small smile. "You needn't worry about that. In fact, I've--" he started, but then his words froze. Mara waited patiently for him to continue. When he did not, she put her hand on his cheek. This brought him out of it; he placed his own hand over hers, keeping it in place on his cheek.

"I've wanted to ask you since the second day we spoke," he said. "That night I slept here but had no money for food, and you shared your meal with me? That night was when I knew. But I sensed that I needed to take my time. Perhaps I was right to wait, but that hesitation almost cost me. I almost lost you tonight because another man had the courage to ask first."

He took both of her hands into his. "I don't have much to offer you right now. I have but a few coins in my purse, and no home but a closet in an inn, but I swear to you, Mara: all that I have, and all that I will ever have, I will share with you. No, I will _give_ to you, and then beg for your scraps. I don't need to share my heart, because you already have it. All of it. I have only this left: Mara, will you marry me?"

She smiled a little, then looked slightly away and stared into the middle distance. "I think of myself as so practical," she said. "Do you know why I spent all day wrestling with my decision for Erick?"

"No."

"Because his offer was sound," she said, now looking him in the eye. "I still don't think he liked me when he asked, and I'm sure he likes me much less now, or worse. But he did offer the things that a practical person would want: a promising future, stability, safety, comfort. You know, he mentioned you, trying to convince me that you offered nothing more than a handsome smile. I'm a practical person, so I should have agreed. But I didn't."

"Why is that?"

"I had time today to, for the first time, ponder things that I never had before," she said. "Besides 'marriage' and 'children', what qualities I might want for a husband, should anyone remotely resembling one come my way. I kept trying to picture Erick for the part, to push and twist him into it, but I couldn't. Another man kept filling it, perfectly, no bending or shaping needed, no matter how much I tried to pull him out."

She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his. She whispered, "You, Kenneth. There's nothing 'practical' about you, but there's no one else I would follow, except you. Yes, I will marry you."


	6. Travel Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story So Far:  
> He didn't have to go to Jared's!

\----------------------

"Believe me that we would have preferred giving an earlier warning," said Kenneth to Erick the next morning, "But given the circumstances of our respective situations... er..."

"Yes, well," said Erick, wiping the counter apathetically, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." He glanced to Mara. "I suppose the better man won."

"Erick," she said quietly. "It wasn't like that."

"I didn't think of it as a competition," said Kenneth, glancing back at Mara. "But thank you." Both he and Mara had packed all of their belongings in their respective sacks, bags, and packs. Her sword was strapped to her side again, where it belonged. All of her belongings fit into three sacks, which she wore in a manner that distributed their weight evenly. Kenneth's lute was strapped again to his back, his cap's brim pulled low.

"Good luck and life to you both, then," Erick said flatly. He looked at Mara, who flashed him a half smile at best. She nodded to him and turned to leave the inn for the final time. Kenneth did, too, but was called back discreetly by Erick. Erick leaned in closer and kept his voice low.

"You treat that girl well," he said. "Hear? She deserves better than a vagabond minstrel, but who am I to say?"

Kenneth was in too high of spirits to get involved in a last-minute pissing contest. "Erick, my good man," he said with a smile, "I swear to you by all I hold dear, that she will be treated as nothing less than a Princess."

*******************

Mara indulged Kenneth's insistence that he visit a barber before leaving town. He hadn't been near a razor since arriving clean-shaven in Allcourt, and had grown a respectable beard by now. The barbershop visit would have been less painful for her if Kenneth hadn't needed to borrow money from her. The night before, when she had to tell Erick that she would not marry him, she worried that he might take back his gift of silver coins, but he did not. At least he was true to his word about that.

She liked the work that the barber had done, and realized that she was more fond of a clean-shaven face. She did not indulge Kenneth's suggestion that they find a bathhouse, though, since all of its amenities would be paid from her purse. Neither had bathed in at least a week, and so their odors shared the same pungency. He seemed more concerned about it than she, but did not say why. He had promised to repay her for the barber visit, though, and she would hold him to it when they arrived at his hometown. He had divulged that it was five miles along the northwestern road. Mara thought about it, but could not remember if she had traveled that way before.

Before they left Allcourt for the last time, Kenneth pulled out a brown cloak, then switched his cap for the cloak in a quick, smooth movement. He kept the hood up. Mara didn't think the sun shone especially brightly this morning, but she set down one of her bags, rummaged through it, and pulled out a cloak of her own. It almost matched his in color, which seemed to please him. Then they headed for the road out of town. Mara gave the _Eleanor Elaine_ a final look back, before looking ahead, occasionally glancing at Kenneth as they walked.

Buildings and people eventually thinned out until they were walking past open fields, some being farmed, some supporting livestock. Any farmers or shepherds were in the distance, tending to their business. The merchant carts that had left before them were slowly dwindling into specks on the horizon. It was quiet, save for their footsteps on the soft road. He wanted very, very much to take her hand and hold it for the whole journey, but she would never stop worrying if anyone outside could see them. He could respect that, though, for some circles considered public affection as "unseemly."

"Would you like me to play something for us?" asked Kenneth, already reaching for the lute on his back. Mara shrugged.

"I have no objection to it," she said. "Just don't put _my_ name into any of the songs."

"I remember that," he said. "But what if a song were written especially for you?"

"I don't want to hear any songs like that," she said. "But it would be nice to hear something cheerful."

"'Cheer' is all that's in my heart right now," he said with a smile and a wink. He strummed the lute a few times and plucked the strings, and satisfied that it was adequately in tune, played his happiest song. Mara listened politely, even when he stumbled on some of the notes and words. He wasn't used to playing while walking at a steady pace, and was a month out of practice, to boot. Near the end of the song, he played faster and louder, as was intended for its ending, then suddenly hit a chord of sour notes.

"Augh!" he groaned, and stopped walking. Mara looked back, then saw the source of his distress. That last chord had caused some of the strings to break. He pulled at the broken strings sadly, then returned the lute to its harness on his back.

"And that concludes this morning's performance," he said. She giggled, then cut herself off, mortified by the immature sound she had uttered.

"I giggled like a girl, didn't I?" she said. "Tell me I didn't just giggle like a little girl."

"I didn't hear a sound," he said.

"Good, deaf as a post," she said with a smile. "Kenneth, I have a confession: I liked that song. It's a merry tune, and I admit that I'm also in a merry mood."

"Or a 'marrying' mood?" he said, bumping her arm with his elbow. It took her a moment, but then she understood and replied appropriately: with a groan. They walked quietly in silence for a minute. It turns out that Mara was gathering some courage to ask her next question.

"Kenneth," she said, "Will you tell me about your parents? What will they think of me?"

"You're going to meet them soon enough," he said. "Would you like to be surprised?"

"Ah... I suppose I don't need too many details," she said. "But I do have one big question about them, and I don't want a surprise for it: Will they accept me?"

"That is a good question," he said, and paused to consider his words. "I only wish I knew the true answer. I will say this about my father, though: he is not a man given to rash decisions or expressions of, uh, emotions. I don't think he's made a single important decision without having given the deepest of consideration and thought to it. For good or ill, then, when he's made his decision, it is _final_. There are no debates or arguments to turn him from it."

"I tell you that," he continued, "Because I have my own confession: whom I would marry is one of the decisions my parents expected to make for me. But I believe that it's too important a decision for it not to be _mine_ , as well. And so, I will attempt a prediction: he will be... frustrated with me, for the mere fact that I found my own bride-to-be without his input. But not from disappointment in you."

She scoffed. "Yes, because I'm such a catch. You make it sound like you left home _just_ to find someone to marry."

"I did," he said, and glanced her way and smiled. The best reply she could muster at first was another scoff and a skeptical look.

"And then almost starved," she said. "And ended up working for scraps and a hard, cold bed."

"It was worth it," he said. "I found you."

"Kenneth-"

"I mean it," he said. "When I was out there like a damned fool, thinking I could sing my way into the heart of a passing stranger, and as you wisely pointed out, almost starving instead, I had realized that I was about to die in Allcourt, and knew I had to return home. So I used all of my money to buy one last night in a real bed."

"Oh," she said, turning red. " _That_ night."

"Yes," he said. "That one. The night that I fell in love."

Mara chuckled in embarrassment, then struggled to compose herself. "All that over a bowl of stew?"

"Quickest way to a man's heart," he said.

"Oh, of _course_ ," she said. "I... I hope it doesn't hurt you to learn that I did not, um, 'fall in love' that same night?"

"No."

"Oh," she said. "That's good. I mean, not that... there was never such a time. Except that I can't think of a true moment like you can, when that happened. I just, er... do."

Kenneth considered her words in silence, then nodded and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. She did not pull away, but looked about to see if any strangers were nearby to see the public affection. Satisfied, she reached up to take his hand from her shoulder, then intertwined her fingers with his.

They walked like this for a distance, saying nothing, their arms joined at the hand and swinging in tandem. Then Kenneth broke the silence.

"Do you mind if I make another confession?" he asked. "It's one that I hope you won't mind."

"Are we both in church today?" she said. "So many 'confessions.'"

Kenneth chuckled, and then took a slow, deep breath. "You see, my dear... My name is not 'Kenneth,'" he said, and looked to her for a reaction. He got a quizzical look. "Not exactly. My full name is Kelvin Edmund Nathaniel. I took the K, E, and N - the first letters of my names - and made 'KEN,' then lengthened it to 'Kenneth.'"

She was silent at first, but Kenneth(?) could tell by her expression that she was pondering his words.

"Is that a reading trick of some kind?" she said. "You know that I can't read?"

"I know," he said. "But calling myself Kenneth was not meant to be a trick against you. It's only that I had to use a different name than my own, Kelvin."

"I think I prefer 'Kenneth,'" she said. "' _Kelvin_ '? Really?"

"Hey," he said in mock disdain. "Kelvin is a perfectly fine name. It's the name of our Prince, you know."

"Oh, I don't pay attention to such things," she said. "Who the royal people are around here and such. You know I haven't lived here long. And-- Oh! I mocked your name. I shouldn't have done that. I am sorry. I know what it's like to be mocked, and I shouldn't have."

He snuck in a squeeze to her shoulder, then smiled. "No ill will, dearest. You're quite forgiven. I don't mind a jape. Not from you, especially."

"That's good to know," she said, adding her own smile. "But forgive me if I'm not certain what to call you. Is 'Kenneth' a nickname, or was it never a name? Are you saying that you want me to call you 'Kelvin' now? What are you called at home?"

"An excellent question," he said. "People call me different things, depending on who they are. My parents, of course, call me 'Kelvin' or 'son.' Others call me... mmm... 'Your Highness.'"

" _Your Highness_."

"Yes," he said. "Or 'Your Royal Highness,' which is more accurate. Informally, 'My Lord.' Or 'Prince Kelvin.'"

"Oh. I see," she said, nodding, then said no more.

"...Mara."

"Hm?"

"I am Crown Prince Kelvin, Duke of Moorcliff, heir to the throne of Gildern," he said, and waited again for her response. Again, she was silent.

"Mara?"

"Hm?"

"Have you heard what I've said, or are you just ignoring it?"

"I've heard you," she said. "I'm not ignoring you. I'm trying to work out why you're telling me this."

"Because it's the truth?"

"No, that's not it," she said.

"But it-!"

"Ohhhhh," she said, "Now I understand. Yes. I have my own confession: my name is not 'Mara.' It's 'Daisy.' That is, Princess Daisy. Duchess of... Pomegranate, and Countess of... Countinghouse."

He sighed. "My father is King Silas and my mother is Queen Lily."

"My father is... an Emperor," she said. "He has three kingdoms."

"I live in the castle that we're walking to right now," he said.

"We have so many castles, I've never slept in the same one twice," she said, and smiled. Kenneth did not reply, nor return her smile. "Your turn now. Or do you yield the game to me?"

"Mara, I'm telling the truth," he said. "It's no game. I am Kelvin Edmund Nathaniel, Crown Prince and heir to the throne of-"

"Please," she said. "How can this not be a travel game? It would've saved us both time if you'd announced it first, though. And I still won, because you repeated yourself! Didn't I?"

"This is not a game," he said, not hiding his exasperation. "You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you, but I could not. I was forbidden from it."

"If this is not a game," she said, "And it cannot be the truth, either, then you're starting to worry me. Why are you telling me this? If it's to make me feel better about marrying you and not Erick, there's no need."

"I'm very grateful that you're marrying me and not him," said Kenneth(?), "But it _is_ the truth. I only wish I could prove it to you here and now, but I haven't the means. But I'll have it the moment we're at the castle. Will you trust my word until then? It's much to ask of you, but I swear that I never lied to you in all this time; it's merely that one truth about me that I had to conceal."

Mara considered his plea, but ultimately shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'll need your proof. If that marks me as faithless, then I beg forgiveness but cannot change it. You know me to be a practical woman who doesn't indulge in fancy thoughts. I'm trying to work out how or why a _Prince_ would pretend to be a peasant and... well, live as you did. And then ask _me_ , a girl as far from being a _Princess_ as anyone could be, to marry him. Kenneth, I've not changed my mind. I will stay with you, but please: end this tale now. I couldn't bear to start imagining a life of indulgence and luxury, when our reality will be hard work, frugality and sacrifice. You know that I'm not one for idleness."

Kenneth sighed in mild frustration. Still, her words lingered with him. Her practicality was one of the attributes he admired, but which now worked against him. He could not fault her for demanding proof, then. It was a relief to him that the castle had been gradually looming larger and closer at a steady pace. Mara was starting to become aware of its true size. It was a large, walled structure of stone a half-mile wide and eighty feet high, with an iron double-door at its center and a raised portcullis partly visible above the doors. From the outside the walls were broken up by guard stations, and large stone and iron towers, peppered with archer loops, at each corner. She could tell at a glance that any enemies laying siege would need to be well-armed, well-organized, well-supplied and patient.

She whistled, then pointed towards it. "I'm willing to believe that you make a home there. That's large enough to be its own village."

"It is," he said. "I hope that you'll be content there."

"There must be many different tradesmen and artisans, yes? What does your family do, then?" she asked. "I mean _really_ do?"

"I'm afraid that I can say no more until you have your proof."

"Really?" she said. "You're going to hold to it?" She sighed. "Kenneth, you know that I expect no riches, or even power, from you, so there's no need to invent them. I would--" She halted, and then took a deep breath to steel her courage, "I will still-- _love_ you. No matter your station."

Kenneth knew that saying that word took as much of her courage as had saying the word "Yes" only the night before. He smiled to himself, then caught her hand as it swung back and forth, brought it to his lips, kissed it gently, then let go, without breaking the rhythm of his stride. Then, for the first time since their journey began, he pulled back the hood of his cloak so that his face was unhidden. The castle was here.

A detachment of guards kept watch at the main gate, and Mara caught glimpses of the unknown number of sentries patrolling the walls. For the first time she felt anxious about their approach, and fought the urge to put her hand on the pommel of her sword. But she did not know how well-trained these men were, and so did not know how they might react to such a movement. Ultimately she pulled her vest forward a bit to make the sword less noticeable.

As they approached, two of the guards stepped forward and held up a hand to them.

"Halt and state your business," said one of them. Kenneth slowed his pace, held up both hands and smiled.

"Greetings... John, is it?" said Kenneth. 'John' cocked an eyebrow. "I come to see my father, King Silas, and my mother, Queen Lily."

'John' was still puzzled, but then his companion widened his eyes in surprise and realization, then gasped.

"Your Highness!" he said, and began dropping into a bow, making sure to pull on John's arm to follow. John finally recognized his Prince, and gave the proper greeting. Behind them, the rest of the detachment made their own realizations at their own pace. Kenneth still had both hands up and was now attempting to quiet them.

"Gentlemen," he said, "Thank you for your greetings. I'm very glad to be home. And as you can see-" he gestured towards Mara -"The Lady is with me. But please: _do not annou_ -"

"PRINCE KELVIN HAS RETURNED!" someone shouted from the back. Sentries along the wall suddenly leaned over, then carried along the message.

\------"PRINCE KELVIN HAS RETURNED!"

\---"PRINCE KELVIN HAS RETURNED!"

"PRINCE KELVIN HAS RETURNED!"

\---------" Huzzah! Prince Kelvin has returned!"

\----"has returned!"

\--"returned!"

-"Prince-!"

"...Announce me," Kelvin finished, and could only stand and listen to the great clamor coming from outside and inside the castle as news of his return was heard by possibly everyone on the grounds. His parents, too, no doubt. He turned to Mara, shrugged, and gave her a half-smile. She looked back at him, wide-eyed, frozen in position. He was unable to decipher her thoughts from the expression, which, while the eyes showed alarm, the rest showed: nothing.

"I had hoped to spare you any surprises," he said. "Do you accept this as proof?"

Before she could answer, the guards suddenly surrounded them both and began guiding them inside. Kenneth reached out to Mara, who did not take his hand, and neither did she change her expression. Once inside, the crowd quickly grew larger as well-wishers called to him and waved and bowed and curtsied and if bold enough, blew kisses. And while making sure to acknowledge the high spirits of the crowd, Kelvin's main concern was to keep him and Mara from getting separated.

Seamus, Captain of the Guard, pushed his way through the crowd and greeted his Prince first with a bow, and then a manly embrace. Kelvin was distracted by his greetings and began to inquire after his parents, then stopped walking and looked about. He did not see Mara, and called for her. Seamus then bade the crowd to disperse. That it took him more than one time before the people listened was an irritant, but it was allowable, given the circumstances. Eventually the people returned to their old activities, and parted until Mara was in view again. She was a full ten paces behind Kelvin, having stopped walking at some point and letting the crowd carry him away. Kelvin smiled in relief and jogged to her. Seamus was equally quick to stay at the Prince's side.

She was still stunned into speechlessness, and looked about in a jerky motion, like a startled bird getting its bearings. Then her gaze fell on Kelvin's.

Seamus said, "Your Highness, do you know this woman?"

"I should say so," said Kelvin. "Seamus, this is the Lady Mara: my betrothed."

"Oh! My Lord, congratulations!" said Seamus, and bowed to her. "My Lady."

"And Lady Mara," said Kelvin, "This is Seamus, our Captain of the Guard. He taught me everything I know about combat."

"But not everything I know," added Seamus with an impish smile. Kelvin chuckled before glancing her way. She did not join their mirth.

"...Proof," she finally managed to say, keeping her gaze on Kelvin. "Proof."

"Proof," he said, smiling and nodding. "Now, are you _certain_ that you don't want a life of indulgence or luxury? I'm afraid it will be difficult to avoid."

"Uh..."

"MAKE WAY FOR THE KING AND QUEEN!" _somebody_ called out from _somewhere_. Seamus and Kelvin turned towards the castle proper, the three-story royal residence that sat in the center of the castle grounds, and which Mara was somehow only just now noticing. Two figures that were clearly of a monarchical nature headed their way, surrounded by a phalanx of attendants and personal guards. The group moved as one, keeping perfect distances from each member, until reaching Kelvin, Seamus and Mara, where the attendants and guards moved aside in order to allow the King and Queen to step forward and greet the Prince - their son. Seamus also bowed and stepped aside to give them room. Mara noted that, like the Prince, she was taller than both of them, and yet still felt quite small in their presence. She was also entirely ignorant of royal protocol and had no idea what she was supposed to do while in their presence.

It was the Queen who spoke first, after a gasp at the sight of her son. "Oh, dear Lord," she said, touching his cheeks. "Son, you're-- you look half-starved! Your color is ghastly! Your clothes have become tatters! What happened to you out there??"

Kelvin took her hands gently into his own and patted them. "Fear not, Mother -- Father. I am well, but yes: I really-" He turned back a little to indicate Mara. "-That is, _we_ could use food, drink, and hot baths right now."

The King and Queen noticed Mara for the first time and glanced her way. She froze, uncertain if she was supposed to speak for herself now, or what to do?

The King pointed at her while addressing Kelvin.

"What, who is this, now?" said the King. Kelvin released his mother's hands, then stepped back to take Mara's hands before facing his parents again. If Kelvin had thought to put an ear to her chest, he might have started dancing a jig to her heartbeat. Mara was uncertain how much longer she could remain conscious.

"Father -- Mother," he said, his whole face beaming, but somehow also with a hint of caution, "Believe me that I understand that this day is full of surprises. And I understand that this will be the largest. But please let me introduce to you: the Lady Mara. She is the woman whose hand I asked for in marriage. And last night, without knowing anything of--" He used his head and eyes to indicate the castle grounds -- "This, she accepted."

If it was possible for a busy, enclosed village to fall into dead silence, now would have been the time for it. As for Mara, she could only hear her own heartbeat and breathing to a point of near-deafening. She did not even hear Kelvin leaning closer to whisper "Curtsey" from the side of his mouth. After another try, he gave up and resumed smiling at his stone-faced parents. Even if Mara had heard him, she would not have known how. Women she had seen doing it always had their legs hidden by skirts and dresses, so she could only have guessed - incorrectly, no doubt - what they were doing.

Suddenly a raven's cry in the distance broke the silence.

"Did she," said the King flatly.

"Father, I understand that you and Mother will wish to discuss this-"

"OH," said the King. "Of that, there is no doubt whatsoever."


	7. Guess Who's Hosting the Dinner?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story So Far:  
> \--The Incredible Twist That No One Saw Coming!  
> \--After eliminating "everyone"

\----------------------------

Inside the castle, on the first floor and in the grand dining hall, only four people occupied the massive table used for royal feasts, celebrations, or in this case, a private lunch. Mara wanted the opportunity to roam the hall freely and view its craftsmanship - the carvings on the pillars, patterns of the mosaic tiles, colors in the stained glass and embroidery of the tapestries - but she kept this thought to herself. Not when her every movement and word was about to be judged by a King and Queen, for the crime of accepting a poor minstrel's marriage proposal.

Her and the poor minstrel's belongings had been stacked against a wall. She almost sat with her sword still on her belt, except that Kelvin successfully mimed to her that it was a good idea to leave it behind. A swarm of servants bustled in and out of the room, laying out the place settings, bringing platters of food and drink, pulling out chairs for the diners, and... bustling in general. Kelvin heard her give a soft "thank you" to the servant that helped her be seated, making a note to himself to do the same for his next meal.

The King was seated at the head of the table, with Kelvin to his left and the Queen to his right. Mara was seated beside the Queen, and had no idea what to do after that. She watched the servants bringing more and more food to the table, and wondered if there was to be a banquet after all. Bowls of fruits and vegetables, a platter with a roasted suckling pig and garnish, tureens of soup, wine and ale, bread, cakes, biscuits, and generally more food than Mara had seen at one sitting. This from someone who had worked at a tavern for four months.

A servant filled the King's goblet with red wine. He swirled the drink a few times and then examined its bouquet. Apparently satisfied, he took a taste, then set it down. Servants than busied themselves filling the others' drinks, in the order of Queen, Prince, and... Prince's guest.

"Of course there'll be a banquet in honor of your return," the King said to Kelvin. Mara was thinking that this _was_ the banquet. "But not this moment. You need to clean up and regain your strength."

"Thank you, sire," Kelvin said. "But if I may, perhaps something in honor of our engagement instead?" He indicated Mara, who blushed and suppressed a smile.

"But that remains to be seen," said the King, unmoved. "Doesn't it?"

"I understand, sire," said Kelvin. "Of course, though I am invoking the law of the land, I want you both to know that your blessing is of utmost importance to me."

"If that were the case, you would have decided amongst the women we selected for you," said the King, piling food to his plate. He gestured to a servant to begin cutting the pig. Mara realized that it was good that she had decided to watch the others' actions and behave accordingly. Duly noted: no one else got food until the King did. If Mara made the rules, the hungriest people would eat first.

Kelvin sighed. "Sire, we won't have the same arguments as before," he said. "I made my decision about them, and invoked my right to choose my own wife. I believe that she will make a better Princess than any of the others could hope to be."

" _Careful_ ," said the King. "Wars have begun over kinder words than that."

"You're right, Father. Forgive me."

"And one of them is your cousin."

"Of course," said Kelvin. "My words were, indeed, too harsh. But my decisions about them are unchanged."

"Hmph," said the King, taking another swig of wine. "You're as stubborn as I am."

"On the contrary," said Kelvin. "Like you, I give all my decisions careful consideration and thought."

"We'll see about that," said the King, and let his gaze drift on Mara. She was still ogling the obscene display of food before her, trying not to openly drool in front of royalty. Fortunately Kelvin was just finishing piling onto his main plate, which he then held out for Mara. He smiled and nodded once. She nodded back and hesitantly took the plate. She then handed him her empty plate, which he used for himself. The King and Queen observed this with bemusement.

"So," said the King. "Mary: it seems that our son, the Prince, has achieved the impossible. He claims to have found someone among the common folk with a royal pedigree."

"Sire," said Kelvin.

"I'm addressing the 'Lady Mary,' son," said the King.

"I understand, sire, but it's Mare- _uh_. Not Mar- _y_."

"Be that as it may," said the King, his gaze not leaving Mara, "The Prince proposed marriage to you, did he not?"

"He... Yes, he did," Mara said quietly, uncertain if she was supposed to meet his gaze or not. To play it safe, she did not.

"Are you speaking to me, or to the table?" said the King. ( _Not safe! Not safe!_ ) Mara straightened up immediately, and forced herself to look him in the eye.

"T-to you, of course," she said. "Kenneth-- I-I mean, _Kelvin_ \-- asked for my hand last night, and I accepted."

"And," he continued, tearing up some of his bread and dipping it in soup, "Did you, at any time, discover his royal heritage prior to this occasion?"

"I..." she said, glancing at Kelvin, then back, "I'm not sure I understand-"

"Did you know that he was a Prince when he asked for your hand?"

"Oh!" said Mara. "Oh. No, I did not. In fact, I-" She looked at each seated at the table in turn, then stayed on Kelvin - "I'm still having trouble believing it now. It's so dreamlike. Perhaps that's not the right word?"

"Hrm," said the King, his mouth full of marinated bread. He took his time to swallow it. "I suppose this is a dream come true for you. Spending your days wishing at wells and on shooting stars that you'll have a rich, handsome Prince come rescue you from poverty?"

Kelvin held up a finger. "Actually, Father-"

"Again, I am addressing your 'Lady Mary,'" said the King. Now the Queen spoke up.

"Oh, Silas, he said her name is Mare- _uh_ ," she said with slight indignation. "You're pretending to not hear again."

"I'd like to be 'pretending,'" the King grumbled. "Very well; I stand corrected, 'Lady Mare- _uh_.' You claim that his true identity was unknown to you. I'm _very_ good at detecting lies, and do not sense this from you. Meaning, you're telling the truth, or I am no longer very good at detecting lies."

"I-I wouldn't dream of lying," said Mara. "I truly did not know. I don't understand why it's so important that I didn't, but it's the truth."

Kelvin shrugged. "It's a long story. I can give the details later." The King rolled his eyes.

"Tradition dictates that our marriages are carefully chosen amongst our own kind to protect, secure, or even strengthen political, social, economic and military bonds," said the King. "A tradition with a good backbone, in other words, and not one to be ignored lightly. But the _law_ is that the King or Prince may choose his own bride, and the law is, unfortunately, vague on said bride's lineage. It's a point that shall be attended to, but until now, tradition had not been ignored, and so did not need to be attended to."

"I did not _ignore_ tradition," said Kelvin.

"Ultimately disregarded, then," said the King. "And thus our sole heir, our only remaining son, somehow convinced us to allow him free rein in a strange town to 'make his own way' and 'find his own bride.' By our mandate, without revealing himself as the Prince. If that were discovered, he had to return home and choose from our selections."

"Why couldn't he reveal himself?" asked Mara.

"Imagine if I had ridden into town in the royal coach with a full complement of guards and vassals and attendants, in my finest attire, and asked if any available woman had any desire to marry me?" said Kelvin. He smiled and shrugged. "And so I walked into town as 'Kenneth,' a would-be bard. Mara, not to deceive, nor make a fool of you, nor of anyone else for that matter, but to find the woman who was, dare I say, perfect for _me_. And I found you."

The King clapped lightly in mock applause. "That was a lovely tale, son," he said. "In fact, I'd like to hear more. Do tell us why this girl will make such a fine Princess, over all the others already of high birth and upbringing? Tell us of her perfection."

Kelvin's mouth tightened. Mara could see in his eyes and demeanor a scene played out many times before in her own life: furious with his own father, desperate to defy him, ultimately managing - barely - to keep himself in check, for his own safety. Or was it for hers? When Kelvin spoke again, he used a quiet tone, but she recognized it as a dangerous one.

"I'm tired, Father," he said. " _We_ -" indicating himself and Mara- "are tired from our long journey here. It's-- home, of course, but it would be more so if both of us were welcome here."

"I never said she is not _welcome_ here-"

"No, you did not _say_ it," said Kelvin. The King glared at his son, then tried to exchange a look with the Queen, whose expression did not match his. "Let your quarrel be with me, and only me," said Kelvin. "I did not 'ignore' or 'disregard' tradition; I gave it careful consideration and the deepest of thought, before ultimately invoking my right by law. And so, like yours, my decision is unchanging. But what also does not change is that I - _We_ \- want your blessing, Father -- Mother-- because without it, we will forever be at odds, and that would be an unbearable life. It is only us now, remember? God called Flora and Robert home to Him. It is only us."

Mara heard a soft whimper to her left, and glanced at the Queen, who was making a royal effort to maintain her composure at the memories of her lost children.

"I missed you both so much while I was away," said Kelvin, his anger gone now, "But it was something I had to do. You know this. I could not tolerate a carefully-orchestrated, strategically advantageous, but ultimately cold and loveless marriage. Blame my youthful lack of wisdom if you wish, but I could not do it. You want her credentials? Here they are: I love her. I would do anything for you. And that makes her a better Princess for me than any of the others."

Somebody sniffled, and it was not the King. "Oh, Mother," said Kelvin, "I didn't mean to bring you to tears."

"You have not," said the Queen indignantly, dabbing at her eyes with a cloth. "You know that onions affect me this way." She handed the cloth to Mara, who was also suffering from the sting of cut onions.

"So there it is," said the King. "You're willing to risk the safety of the kingdom for True Love. We couldn't be more proud."

"Please answer me this, Father," said Kelvin. "Are there any kingdoms that would not come to our aid if asked, or for whom we would not pledge _our_ aid? And no matter who I chose, _somebody_ would end up disappointed."

"Yes, best to disappoint all of them," said the King.

"Silas - My Lord," said the Queen, "Our son has just returned from a terrible ordeal and is spent. Let him bathe, rest, greet his friends, have a proper homecoming. And the Lady Mara is at least his guest, so she is due all courtesies for that alone."

"Whose side are you on?"

"All of ours, of course, My Lord," said the Queen.

"Well said, Mother," said Kelvin, who pushed back his chair and stood. He bowed to each of them and held out a hand to Mara. "Now: which guest room should I take her to?" Mara did not know if she was allowed to stand up before the King and Queen did.

"Ohhhh, no," said the King. "Not you. A servant will do that."

"Why?"

"You two have been together long enough," said the King, and he laid down his decree: Kelvin and Mara were not to associate with one another until the King and Queen had come to their decision regarding the blessing of their marriage. They were allowed to speak with each other only when in the presence of the King and Queen, such as at meals, and no other time. The King's spoken reason was to prevent Kelvin from "coaching" her into saying or doing whatever they wanted to hear, to influence their decision. Kelvin, of course, argued against this enthusiastically, but ultimately acquiesced, especially since the King claimed that this was an uncontestable decision.

Servants were summoned to gather their respective things and accompany Kelvin and Mara to their rooms: the Prince, to his royal chambers, and Mara to a well-appointed guest room that was larger than any single _house_ that she had lived or slept in. The servant placed her effects where she instructed, and then assured her that the room was at her disposal alone and was not going to be shared with a dozen other women, as she had inquired. Then the servant made a respectful departure, and left. Mara was alone in the room now.

This guest room was on the third floor of the castle. There were four narrow windows facing the west so as to catch the afternoon and evening sun. Two of the windows could be opened. She was tempted to try, but decided not to touch anything just yet.

The bed was larger and more elaborate than any she had seen. It seemed large enough for four adults to sleep on and still have elbow room. It was a four-poster bed with soft curtains and a canopy. Bright, soft pillows were arranged decoratively at one end. She leaned over and pressed hesitantly on the mattress, which was remarkably soft and smooth. She pressed a bit more and realized it was a featherbed, covered with fine linen and a wool blanket. Only for herself? That could not be. A swarm of women were sure to arrive at any moment and inform her that her place was in the corner, on the straw bedding. But there was no straw in the corner. There was a dressing table with a looking glass in the corner. And nightstands on either side of the bed, each with several candles and matches. A large chest at the foot of the bed. A _fireplace_ opposite the bed. Paintings of tranquil scenery on the walls. And portraits of former occupants? She made a note to tell Kelvin that a portrait of her would not be necessary.

Finally she went to one of the windows, undid the latch and pushed it open. A cool breeze blew in immediately. She closed her eyes and breathed in slowly and deeply. It would help clear the dull smell of stone, both dry and damp. She peered outside and glimpsed castle workers plying their trades, delivering goods, conducting business, or perhaps simply trading the latest gossip.

Mara left the window open and returned to the bed. Staring at it, she finally realized just how tired she was, though it was only midday. Odd that she could labor a full day at the _Eleanor Elaine_ and feel less tired than she did now. Perhaps there was something to be said about taxing the mind versus taxing the body.

She went to her belongings and pulled her sword and scabbard from the pile, drew it out halfway, then _clacked_ it back in. When in an unfamiliar place, nothing helped her sleep better than that "security blanket." Or, as she learned soon enough, what also helped her sleep was an unbelievably comfortable bed.


	8. The Lady in the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story So Far!  
> \--You thought your future in-laws were intimidating

\------------------------

Heather, an apprentice royal handmaiden, arrived at the bedroom of the Lady Mara, whom she had been told was a personal guest of His Royal Highness Prince Kelvin and was to be attended to. Her first task was to draw a bath for the Lady and see to any other personal needs. It was Heather's first solo assignment, which she was eager to complete to perfection. She allowed herself to wonder about this woman's true rank and station, not to mention how she had become the Prince's "guest," but knew well enough not to speak any of her speculations aloud. To be the Prince's personal guest was high-ranking enough for her.

Heather reached the bedroom door and held the fresh towels, blankets, oils and perfumes in one hand while knocking. She leaned close to the door but heard nothing, so she knocked more vigorously. Still no answer. She gingerly pushed on the door, which was unlocked, until it was ajar. Heather peered inside.

"Lady Mara?" she said quietly. No answer, except for some deep breathing somewhere inside. Heather opened the door a bit more. The Lady Mara lay on the center of the large bed, in as deep a sleep as a person could be. Heather quietly set down the bathroom effects and tiptoed forward.

"Lady Mara?" she whispered. "My Lady?"

She wondered if the Lady was from another country, given her uncommon clothing: a well-used, long-sleeved blue shirt under a brown vest, an unwomanly belt, what appeared to be a wrap around her waist to make a skirt of sorts, and boots. The Lady was also quite tall - much taller than most in this country - and slender, as though not as well-fed as other high-ranking women. Heather was uncertain what to do. She wanted to leave the Lady be in her rest, but her orders came from the Queen herself, and she did not want her first assignment to end in forfeiture. Heather looked about nervously, then stepped forward quietly, extending a hand, and gently laid it on Lady Mara's arm. Still she did not stir, so Heather began shaking it slightly.

"Lady Mara?" she said. "Are you well? Lady-"

Mara woke with a start and a yell, fumbling in half-sleep for her sword, which rested on the side away from Heather. Still partly dreaming, Mara managed to snatch up the scabbard and draw out the sword. Heather screamed and turned to flee the room in terror. That finally woke Mara all the way. Heather's scream got a yelp from her, as well, and Mara looked over in time to see the back of a young, red-haired girl in flight.

"Wait!" Mara called after her, struggling to climb off the luxuriously soft, but sunken-in bed. "WAIT!" The girl was already past the door before Mara's own feet were back on the floor. She chased after the girl, sword still in hand, calling to her, until the girl finally slowed her running enough to look back, only to yelp again. Mara caught up with her, and, realizing how she must have appeared to the girl - as a maniac chasing her with a blade - she held out her left hand, turned the sword so the blade pointed down, slowly set it against the wall, then stood up slowly and held out both hands. Having to calm someone down like this was uncommon in her experience. To her credit, the girl was clearly trying to calm herself, as well. Heather knew that a proper handmaiden must be unflappable, and she was failing already. Two guards arrived behind the girl who had raised such an alarm.

"What's this?" said one. "What's happened here?"

"Heather, is that you?" said the other.

"What?" said Heather, peering at the guards. "Oh! Hello, Leonard! Yes, all is well."

"Are you certain? said the first guard.

"And you are...?" said Leonard to Mara.

"She is the Lady Mara," said Heather. "The blame for this is mine. Really. Thank you for showing such concern."

Leonard and his colleague exchanged looks, then nodded, bowed quickly with overlapping "My Lady"s, and moved on. Mara watched them leave, then remembered to retrieve her sword. She and Heather spoke simultaneously.

"I'm so sorry," they both said. Heather stepped back and bowed her head.

"My Lady," she said. "I hope you will forgive my foolishness. It was unwarranted."

"What?" said Mara. "But _I'm_ the one who-- Actually, what is it that you needed from me? Heather, is it?"

"Yes, m'lady," she said with a curtsey.

"That!" said Mara, pointing. "How do you do that?"

"Pardon?"

"You know what; never mind," said Mara. "First, we should go back to that room." Heather nodded and followed Mara as they walked back. "Truly, I am sorry for what happened. I can't believe how _deeply_ I slept. You had to shake my arm to wake me? And did I shout? I think I shouted."

"Yes, m'lady."

"I've been a light sleeper all my life," said Mara. "Perhaps it was the bed. It was _so comfortable_. I don't even remember laying my head down. Heather: did I hurt you in any way? Please tell me that you're uninjured."

"Only my pride, m'lady," said Heather with a forced smile. "But of course you're not to blame. It's mine alone. I did not wake you properly."

Mara regarded her for a time. Heather hid her discomfort and hoped that she was not being judged harshly.

"There's no convincing you that _my_ waving a sword about is not _your_ fault, is there?" Mara asked. Heather only shrugged and smiled.

"And that you don't have to keep calling me 'Lady?' "

Another small shrug. "I cannot stray from proper manners," said Heather. "My Lady."

"Hmph," said Mara, putting her hands on her hips. "You came for a reason other than being chased down a hall. Did Kelvin send you? Are we allowed to see one another?"

"I... do not know, m'lady," said Heather. "I have been sent to draw your bath, attend to your bathing and dressing, and whatever else you require."

"Oh," said Mara. "That's very kind of you, but I don't have the money for a fancy bath, and I can dress myself. See-- Heather-- I-I'm not quite the 'Lady' that people here think I am. For one, I've always looked after myself. Pardon me if I'm using the wrong term, but are you a servant?"

"Royal handmaiden," said Heather. "Apprentice. But, My Lady, I am fully qualified to attend to your needs! The Queen herself appointed me to you. She honors me."

"How old are you?"

"Fourteen, m'lady." Heather made another little curtsey. Mara was quiet now, deep in thought. Heather had been trained to take her lead from her mistress, whoever it may be, and waited as patiently as she was able. Then Mara sighed and shrugged.

"Very well," she said. "But know this: I'm not used to 'handmaidens' and having people do things for me. Especially things like bathing and dressing. Really, people here... They don't do that themselves?"

"I... Perhaps some do," said Heather, almost as a question. "Begging your pardon, m'lady, but shall we attend to your bath now?"

"I suppose we shall," said Mara. "Lead on, My Lady!"

Heather gasped and appeared genuinely distressed. "Oh! Forgive me, but **I** am not a-"

"I know, I know," said Mara. "I only... It was a poor joke. But do lead on."

*******************

Mara felt the water in the large wooden tub in a first-floor room filled with several other tubs. It was half-full and room temperature, which was warmer than many places where Mara had bathed. She had been lucky - once - to encounter a hot spring during her travels, but had otherwise been confined to cool or even cold waters when she felt dirty enough to wash up. Erick had had a wash basin available for her, Kenneth/Kelvin and himself to use, but there never seemed any time to use it. In fact, she was unable to remember the precise time she had last fully bathed.

Mara's unspoken question about what to do now was answered by Heather, who brought a screen over to the tub. Mara realized it was to provide privacy for her to remove her clothing and climb in to the tub on her own, and she stepped behind the screen to begin this, but Heather begged for her patience. Heather began retrieving buckets of very hot water from a metal tub being heated by a wood fire. The purpose was to add the hot water to the wooden tub until it had become the ideal temperature for the Lady Mara's bathing pleasure. Mara attempted to help, but there was only one bucket available.

After several trips back and forth, the wooden tub was adequately filled, and Mara insisted that it was the "perfect" temperature. She went behind the screen, removed her clothing, stepped inside the tub, paused to gasp at how warm the water was, and then sat down and immediately curled up tightly in the water.

Heather gathered the oil, perfume, towel and scrubber and stepped quietly behind her. Mara was leaning far forward in the tub, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, the knees pushed up against her chest. She was dipping a hand into the water carefully and rubbing it on herself while still keeping the arm tight to her body. Heather was uncertain if the Lady was indicating to have her back scrubbed first, or was simply overly modest and trying to maximize her privacy. But then, would not a modest woman go to lengths to prevent others from seeing scars, such as the ones on her back, arms, shoulder and sides? Heather began wondering what had caused so many, then invoked her training to keep from counting the Lady's wounds, and set down her equipment to begin her task.

Mara started at the sound of this and flinched.

"Wait - no no," she said, turning her head partway back. "I'm going to bathe myself. Don't help me!"

"Is the Lady certain?" asked Heather. "It's very relaxing when someone else assists."

"What are you trying to do?"

"Well, apply some oils and fragrances and- See?" said Heather, taking her bottles to Mara's front and showing them. Mara responded by curling up even tighter, which was somehow possible, and leaning away.

"No no! Not _closer_ to me! Go away!"

"I-- beg your pardon, My Lady," said Heather, moving away. "I was told to bathe you, and-- Please forgive me." She put the bottles back on the stand behind the tub and moved from Mara's sight. "Do you wish me to leave the room entirely," she asked from the other side of the screen, "Or shall I remain nearby in case you need me?"

Mara was lost in thought, ashamed of her words but uncertain how to make amends.

"My Lady?" said Heather.

"Just Mara," she said. "Please. Heather?"

"Yes?"

"Will you come over again?"

Mara had scarcely finished the sentence before Heather was at her side again. After a moment, Mara made herself look Heather in the eyes, but was still curled up. Just not as tightly as before. "Please forgive _me_ ," said Mara. "You didn't deserve my harsh tone. You're only trying to please the Queen. I'm not used to being served, and—I was unkind. So, er… do whatever you were instructed to do. If she asks, I'll give you a good report."

"Oh, that would be lovely, La--! That is, Mara," said Heather.

"I'm amending that," said Mara. "I _will_ tell the Queen that you're very good. I won't wait."

Heather was all smiles as she busied herself with Mara's bathing. She added some oil and perfume to the tub and stirred up the water a bit to begin its mixing. Then she scrubbed Mara's back gently, careful not to irritate her scars, in case they were tender or still healing. Mara began to relax and loosen the death grip on her own legs. She dipped a hand in the water and smelled it, then let out a quiet hum of satisfaction.

"I shouldn't be in here long," Mara said a little sleepily. "The water will grow cold for you."

"Do you want more hot water?"

"No, this is..." Mara closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting her legs stretch out for the first time. "So warm. So comfortable. When it's your turn, I'll bring more hot water for you."

"My turn?"

"Yes, when you bathe," said Mara. "You'll have a turn, yes?"

"Oh, no, My La--- I mean, no," said Heather with a light chuckle. " _We_ don't bathe here. Only your kind."

" 'My' kind?"

"Well, yes. People of means," said Heather. "But really? Where you're from, everyone uses the same facilities?"

"Where I'm from..." said Mara quietly. "Yes. Yes, they do."

********************

The two women walked in silence to Mara's guest room. She had admitted to Heather that she would need a guide to return, unfamiliar with the layout of the castle as she was. But at the same time, not expecting Heather to remain at her side every moment, waiting for scraps of assistance to be offered. She had to have more important duties to attend to. Friends to visit. _Something_.

Heather opened the door for her and waited for Mara to walk inside before following. Mara made a habitual scan of the room to find her belongings, which had not been touched from where she'd left them. In a bit of irony Mara had put on her old clothes after the bath, emphasis on "old," which had in essence negated the intent of the bathing. She herself smelled lightly of flowery fragrance, while the fragrance of her clothing was... something other than flowery. But she had no other clothes, so there was nothing to be done for it.

"My Lady," said Heather, "This appears to have been left for you."

Mara turned to see Heather holding a piece of folded parchment. There was a small bit of wax on it to keep it sealed. "Just Mara," she said, taking the parchment. "You don't need to call me 'Lady,' remember?"

"Not if there's a chance to be overheard," said Heather, indicating the open door. Mara practically glared at the door, then broke the seal on the parchment and opened it. She frowned at its contents: words.

"My Lady, will there be anything else you need from me?"

Mara turned the parchment the other way, as if this would help her make sense of it. "I _told_ him I can't--" she whispered to herself, then sighed.

"M'lady," said Heather, curtseying, "Do you wish me to take my leave of you?"

"Wait," said Mara. "No. That is, please wait. Heather, do you...?" She glanced at the parchment. "Can you read?"

"Oh yes!" Heather squealed in unexpected glee, then covered her mouth in embarrassment and calmed herself. "That is, yes, m'lady. I can."

Mara handed back the parchment. "I'm afraid that I can't," she said quietly. "Will you read this to me?"

"Of course!" said Heather with a big grin. She studied the words for a moment, her expression softening as she read.

"Out loud?" said Mara.

"Hm? Oh. Of course, m'lady, but... Are you certain I should be reading this?"

Mara shrugged. "I can't know what it says unless you read it."

"Well," said Heather, "To begin, it is from His Royal Highness the Prince, and-"

"Oh! Read it! Read it!"

"Yes, at once, m'lady," said Heather, and cleared her throat. "Hm. His writing is quite neat! ' _My dearest, sweetest Mara..._ "

"Ah," said Mara. "Hm."

"Er, do you wish me to-?"

"Yes, yes, keep going!"

" ' _My dearest, sweetest Mara, But a few hours have passed and I already ache for your presence. I--' "_ Heather stopped, went quickly to the door, shut it, and then resumed her place with the parchment. "Sorry," she said. " ' _I ache for your presence. I am in pain for us both at the edict of the King, but we must be patient and trust in God to show him the truth of our love for each other. Know this, my Darling: I will never abandon you nor forsake you. I beg for your patience and understanding during this trying time for us both. Together I know we will make them see that there is no folly in the love of a man for his betrothed, and she for him.' "_ Heather stifled a gasp. _" 'It is not only for the low-born or for secret affairs of the high-born, but for everyone. Servants will attend to all your needs and you will want for nothing.'_ Do you think he means me?"

"I don't know."

"Sorry," said Heather, and found her place. " ' _...want for nothing. Today, visit the royal seamstresses for your first of many fine garments. If they have nothing for you now, they will take measurements and create something just for you. No, at no cost to you, ha ha.'_ Why would he add laughing?"

"It's something humorous for me, I think," said Mara. "We can speak of it later."

"Ah," said Heather. " ' _And forgive this admonition, but it is important: when addressing the King and Queen, you must call them Your Majesty. In the first sentence will do. Please remember this, and also the curtsey. Everything will help! I long to hold you and lose myself in your emerald eyes and luscious lips, my one and only. Forever yours, Kelvin, Pr.' "_

"Oh!" said Heather, folding up the parchment and fanning herself with it. "Oh, my goodness! Would that I find someone half like that!"

Mara looked down to smile, then forced it back as she took the parchment from Heather. She unfolded it and touched the words as though they might make themselves known to her that way. It did not matter; all of them were beautiful. "I don't deserve him," she whispered.

"Oh, I'm certain that you do," said Heather. "And forgive me if I misunderstood his words, but-" She could no longer control her excitement. " _Are you his betrothed??"_ "

"Well..." said Mara, and then became fully alert. "Hold on! Heather, tell me that you'll be discreet about this letter! That you'll say _nothing_ of it?"

"Oh, I swear it! Upon pain of death!" She giggled.

"You don't need to go that far, but thank you," said Mara, then sighed. "This has been by far the oddest day of my life. And it's not even over, is it? But-- Yes, the Prince proposed to me, and I accepted-"

Heather squealed with delight and clapped her hands.

"BUT," said Mara, "It is _not_ fully decided yet. I think. We're supposed to have his parents' - ah, I mean the King's and Queen's- approval. Their blessing. This _really_ needs to be quiet. I don't think it's a secret, exactly, but there shouldn't be a fuss made. And I will not be the one to make a fuss of it!"

"Nor I!" said Heather. "I am wholly without fuss."

"Good!" said Mara. She folded up the parchment and took it over to her pile of belongings. After some thought, she opened her largest sack and hid the letter inside, closed it up, then returned to Heather.

"Now, he wrote that he wants me going to a seamstress?" said Mara uncertainly.

"Yes," said Heather, nodding and giggling. "Would you like me to take you?"

"Not if you're going to keep giggling," said Mara. "They'll wonder if you're hiding something. And they'd be right. Savvy?"

"Yes, yes, I 'savvy,' " said Heather. It helped her to relax by tugging at and adjusting her dress. Eventually she regained the proper composure. "May I ask a question, though? How you and the Prince met?"

"At an inn," said Mara, nodding. "I gave him soup. Listen: before we go to these seamstresses..." She rubbed her hands nervously. "Can you show me how to curtsey?"


	9. Try the Banquet Dip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story So Far!  
> \--Mara makes a new... acquaintance

\------------------

The Prince had taken the liberty of sending the royal seamstresses a note to explain that they were to measure and clothe the Lady Mara to the best of their ability, and send him the bill. Thus there was no surprise when Heather brought and introduced her to them. Then Heather proceeded to giggle, causing Mara to use a subdued form of "The Look" to quiet her. In practice the full version of "The Look" is what she used to intimidate men on a battlefield.

The surprise that the seamstresses had, then, was Mara's size. If she were somewhere at 5 feet or under, and well-fed, there were plenty of garments to be had, but clothing a slender giantess was another matter. Still, they were _royal_ seamstresses and thus the best in the land, and rose quickly to the challenge. Her slender frame was used to their advantage; there was more material in a dress for a Rubenesque woman and would hang lower on her. They also searched for items that had been returned to be shortened.

Mara, for her part, kept her disdain for the whole concept of wearing a dress to herself. Most of the ones she'd seen on rich women made them look like they were trapped inside fabric prisons, constricted and limited to stiff movement. Hardly amenable to vigorous activity, flexibility, or most importantly, defending themselves in combat. But she did not need to be told that her current attire would only cause impediments to her goal of marrying Kelvin. It still struck her as strange that she was suddenly to call him that rather than "Kenneth." Or rather... "Your Highness?" Mara stifled a groan at that. Majesties, Lords and Ladies and Highnessesseses... How did these people keep all of this straight?

The apparent leader of the seamstresses was named Beatrice, based on the others referring to her as such; Mara also heard "Abigail," "Clarisse," and forgot the rest. Beatrice called Mara over to take measurements. She used a ribbon with notches on it and called out numbers to the others, who wrote them down. Sometimes she grabbed part of Mara unexpectedly and pulled it into an unexpected position. Mara clenched her teeth and tolerated it. At least the woman was measuring and letting go quickly. Still, a man doing the same would have been met with more forceful resistance.

The women took turns holding up different dresses to Mara, and finally decided on a blue one with magenta trim. All of their decorative belts were too long, so one seamstress was busy trimming it to size and making new holes for the laces. Mara was directed to the dressing screen in the corner and was handed their chosen outfit. The fact that it was meant for a heavier woman made it a loose fit that alleviated, somewhat, Mara's concern about ease of movement. She thought she was done with it, but then the women surrounded her and pulled and folded and tucked in and tied off and all sorts of things to make it fit more tightly. The belt had been altered to size, as well. Mara asked for and received a pouch for the belt. She didn't like having no way to carry anything, whatever it might be.

The women stepped back and regarded their work with a professional eye. They murmured to each other, using terms that, for Mara, may as well have been a different language. Sometimes they pointed at different areas, sometimes reached in and adjusted, until finally all of the women nodded amongst themselves and looked her in the eye.

"Is this to your liking, My Lady?" said Beatrice. Heather came over, all smiles and clasped hands. Mara only shrugged. "Ah! Of course," said Beatrice, and led her over to a full-length looking glass, something that must have cost somebody a pretty copper.

It was actually the first time Mara had seen herself in a full reflection, apart from bodies of water and shiny materials. Erick had a small looking glass in his room, so she at least knew her own face, but could not remember ever seeing her full body at one time. And most definitely never wearing a dress. The seamstresses had given her layers, which to Mara's credit, she had worked out herself in which order to put them on. The undergarment, of satin, was a lighter blue than the long-sleeved coating, made of a thicker material that she was not familiar with. The wide belt held it all together.

Mara couldn't decide if she was looking at herself, or a different woman playing her part from the other side of the looking glass. Practicality demanded the former answer; she dismissed her indecision as foolishness. Of course this was herself; just a "herself" she had never seen before. One of the seamstresses stepped up behind her and draped a green, velvet cloak over her shoulders, then adjusted it for symmetry. Heather was at her side again.

"If I may, My Lady," she said, "I think this suits you very well."

"If you say so," said Mara quietly, still watching herself in the looking glass. "I-I wouldn't know. I've never worn anything like this."

"Pardon?"

"Hm?" said Mara, then broke from her thoughts. "Uh... uh, never mind. Ladies, this is very nice. Truly. But how is this to be paid for, again?"

"His Royal Highness the Prince has written to us that he will make payment," said Beatrice. "But much of this is simply being borrowed until we've made something that fits you properly."

"He's buying my clothes?"

Beatrice held up the Prince's instructions. "According to this, yes," she said.

"Are they expensive?"

The seamstresses exchanged looks, then burst out into fits of laughter and giggles. Heather joined in to cover her nervous excitement.

"Why are you laughing?" said Mara, irritated. "Is that a yes or a no?" Beatrice went to her and put a reassuring arm around her and led her back to the looking glass.

"My Lady, if His Royal Highness is offering to treat one to new clothes, one should not question it," she said. The others smiled and nodded in agreement. Mara did not meet their smiles, but stared at her reflection in silence.

*******************

Before Mara left the seamstresses, there was a brouhaha about having her boots replaced with "proper" shoes. The seamstresses reacted as though she were leaving the room with an uncovered buttocks, rather than simply the wrong kind of footwear for a Lady. Unfortunately, like the rest of her body, her feet were larger than most women's, and no Ladylike footwear was available. That, too, would need to be custom-made, so Mara just had to hope that no one noticed the boots. Also, she ultimately needed to demand the return of her original clothing, before they could follow up on their suggestion to use it as fuel for a fire. Luckily for them she had left her sword behind in the guest room. She did agree that a good scrubbing for the clothing was in order, though.

Back in the guest room, a messenger informed her and Heather that supper was due to be served in the banquet hall, and that she was expected to attend. This led to some panicky practice sessions on curtseying and the proper addressing of royalty and nobility. Heather wondered how it was that a Lady could be so unschooled in court etiquette, but kept her questions to herself. Mara had mentioned something earlier about not being "as much" of a Lady as people thought, so perhaps that was part of it? And then Heather's last "favor" for the day, which for some reason the Lady kept calling her duties, was to lead her to the banquet hall.

They had made it to the final hallway leading to the room when both women were startled by someone from the shadows calling Mara's name. It did not help that she was already a bundle of nerves, feeling more like she was walking towards a trial than a meal. Out of habit she reached for her sword, which was, again, elsewhere.

"Mara," said Kelvin again from her right. He stepped into the light long enough to beckon her over. Mara's face lit up. She started to run, and immediately tripped on her dress and all but flew forward, but was caught just in time by Kelvin. Heather rushed over to help her back up and adjust her dress.

"Thank you," he said to Heather. "That will be all." Heather curtseyed quickly and left.

"I _knew_ that women's clothing was designed to kill us!" said Mara. Kelvin was taken aback, then laughed and dove right into a kiss. Mara briefly joined in, then pulled away and looked about nervously. She whispered, "Wait! We're not supposed to see each other! Won't this make them forbid the marriage?"

"Shhhh," he said. "Calm yourself, Darling. I just wanted to see you before we start supper." He seemed to notice her new clothing for the first time. "And Oh! Look at you!" He stepped back to take in all of her, starting his gaze at her feet and slowly working his way up. Mara became more nervous, the longer he took.

"Kelvin!" she whispered, snapping her fingers, which broke him from his reverie.

"Mm?" he said. "Oh, yes. Uh... I need to remind you of a few things before we enter the hall." He led her away from the main hallway and into a dim corridor. "First: did you get my letter? You must have, because clearly you visited the seamstresses."

"Yes, I did," she said. "But I told you that I can't read."

"What? Ah! You're right; I'd completely forgotten. But then, how did you...?"

"Heather read it to me."

"Who?"

"The girl with me, who just left. And I swore her to secrecy! She insists that she won't tell anyone."

Kelvin frowned at this and sighed. "But... did you not just meet her today?"

Mara shrugged. "She said the letter was from you, so of course I wanted to know what you wrote. What choice did I have?"

"I understand," he said. "And since it was the only way I could 'speak' to you... She read all of it, then? Including how to address the King and Queen?"

"As 'Your Majesty,' yes, Heather and I went over all that," said Mara. "Aaaand curtseying." She sighed. "Rich people..."

"May I see it?"

Mara eyed him quizzically a moment, then took a step back to execute her first womanly greeting to royalty. The Prince appeared satisfied. "Excellent!" he said. "Did Heather also teach you that?"

Mara nodded. Then Kelvin bent his right arm and held it out to her. "Now, I'll be escorting you to the different people here tonight," he said. "I'm afraid that each person in here 'outranks' you, so once I've introduced you, you should dip. A small one, though."

"'Dip?'"

"Curtseying halfway," he said with a shrug. "I tell you what: you rest your arm on mine. Go ahead." Still uncertain, but less willing to make a scene, Mara placed her hand on his. He intertwined his fingers with hers. "Once it's time for you to dip, I'll squeeze your fingers gently. Like so." He demonstrated this, and Mara nodded. "Try it now." He squeezed again.

"Oh!" she said, and 'dipped' a knee, as he'd described.

He was quiet a moment, and then smiled and nodded. "Now-"

"Wait," she said. "Ah, Ken--Kelvin, I mean. What do I say to people? _Should_ I say something?"

"You may," said Kelvin with a chuckle. "But you don't _have_ to say anything, if you don't want to. Other than addressing them when you dip, that is. After that, if you want to be silent and take cues from them, do so. I can say from experience that the favorite subject of most of the upper class is themselves."

Mara thought about this for a moment, then understood his joke and chuckled. He smiled and winked, then straightened up and began escorting her from the side corridor, but she stopped and pulled him back into the shadows.

"Wait!" she whispered. "If we're not supposed to be with each other, should we come in at the same time?"

Kelvin pondered this a moment, then shook his head. "We just _happened_ to arrive at the same time. But as a compromise to the King and Queen, will you accept my introducing you as the Lady Mara, but not include that you're my intended?

It was Mara's turn to ponder her response for a moment. Then she sighed. "Kelvin, I'm... In one day I've learned that I'm promised to a Prince, had a private meal with a King and Queen, been bathed, slept on the most comfortable bed ever made, and... this now is a banquet? Also with a King and Queen and other Lords and Ladies?" Kelvin nodded. "Then you may call me whatever you wish."

"I've been contemplating 'Princess Daisy,' but I'll save that for later," said Kelvin. Then he led her back to the light of the main hallway. Already there was a hum of conversation heard from the banquet hall, as well as musicians providing background music. Mara recognized the room as the same one where she'd eaten earlier, but now the dining table was fully laden with food and drink of almost every kind she'd ever seen, and some she had not. She saw the King and Queen, but not together. In one part of the room he was surrounded by various Lords who seemed to hang on his every word; the Queen was in another part, likewise surrounded by Ladies. Three of the Lords saw Kelvin as soon as he entered and made a great cry of delight. They came over and clasped hands, clapped shoulders, engaged in manly embraces and otherwise gave a warm welcome. In the process his arm was pulled away from Mara, leaving her not a little bit distressed. The Ladies had also noticed his entrance, but responded with demure smiles and head bows to His Royal Highness. They also noticed Mara, but did not smile or bow their heads.

The Lords were guiding Kelvin over to their little gathering, when he remembered his date for the evening and pried himself away, politely, to retrieve her. He held out his arm as they had practiced earlier, and escorted her to his father and friends. She was introduced to Duke Wilford of Gimsley, then to Duke Reginald of Brookhurst, Duke Thomas of Ballanch, and two other Lords. As he spoke, she tried mightily to remember each name, and then felt a squeeze. It took her a moment to remember its purpose. She dipped and murmured a "My Lords" to them, in case it would help. 

Kelvin saved the "last but not least" introduction for the King. She paused for half a second before deciding on a full curtsey for him, and only _just_ remembering in time to call him "Your Majesty" rather than "My Lord," though the latter would not have been incorrect.

Now that the introductions to the men were complete, she was back to having no idea what to do. Kelvin verbally excused himself to the Lords and was about to escort her over to the women, but the Queen intercepted and "relieved" him of the burden of keeping Mara occupied all night. Kelvin hesitated, and then released his arm from Mara's, gave her as subtle an apologetic look as he could, and returned his attention to his companions. Mara followed the Queen nervously over to her three companions. There were other women nearby, but standing near the walls as if at attention and dressed less extravagantly than the others. Servants, perhaps.

"We leave the men to their own talk," said the Queen to Mara. "Ladies, this is the Lady Mara, guest of the Prince tonight." No _squeeze_ , so Mara was unclear to whom to greet appropriately. But then, everyone here _did_ outrank her...

The woman closest to the Queen had been fanning herself and regarding Mara with a discerning eye. "And how do you know His Highness?" she said. She was a woman of a certain age, with features that were not severe, but not kind, either.

"I... We met while he was traveling," said Mara, glancing to the Queen. "And then he invited me here, the next time I was in Gildern. I've accepted his offer."

"How very thoughtful of him, to take you in for the night," said another. The Ladies joined her in a titter. The Queen frowned. As always, Mara had the height advantage over all of them, but she did not feel it now.

"Ladies..." said the Queen, giving them a Look. "You are _amused_ by the Prince's generosity?"

The snickering stopped, and the Ladies immediately bowed heads and muttered apologies and "Your Majesty"s. Mara swallowed some bile, then showed a small smile.

"The Prince is kind and generous," she said, then added quickly, "And Her Majesty, of course. I'm very grateful that I'm allowed to join you all tonight. Thank you so much, Your Majesty." Mara had finally remembered her curtsey, and executed her best one of the evening to the Queen.

The women, including the Queen, were silent. The first woman continued fanning herself, but more slowly. Then the Queen spoke. "You are welcome," she said, then as if in afterthought: "Lady Mara."

A servant announced that the evening's meal was ready, and the aristocrats showed a slight lack of decorum in their haste to take their seats. Mara hung back to observe the seating order, which appeared to be King and Queen a bit off center, with the rest of the gentry seated according to sex and rank, in that order. The Queen and the other Ladies took their places. Each guest, of course, had a servant behind them to push in their chairs. Mara did not mind that her place appeared to be at the far end, until she saw the last of the Ladies take the final seat on the Queen's side of the table. The Lords had filled up their side of the table, as well.

Mara stood at the end of the table, wondering if she was allowed to sit there rather than in a line like the rest. The guests were too busy chatting amongst themselves to notice her predicament, but an observant servant did, and set some others to the task of finding an extension for the main banquet table. She saw Kelvin lean forward from his side of the table and shrugged slightly at him. By the time he left his place at the table to confer with any servants, two of them were already carrying over the extension. They briefly needed to set it down to explain the situation to the King, and only proceeded when he allowed it.

"I'm sorry," she said to the two servants. "I didn't mean to be any trouble." They either did not hear or were ignoring her, and busied themselves setting up utensils, goblets, food and drink for her faster than she could have ever done at the _Eleanor Elaine_. The final touch was a servant pulling out her chair in such a smooth move that did she not realize at first that he was waiting for her. She whispered her thanks and then attempted to scoot it in herself, but the servant beat her to it.

A woman with hair only slightly darker than Mara's, but with an elaborate hair arrangement involving braids and loops, watched all of this with a neutral expression. "That was quite a production, wasn't it?" she asked while Mara was just finishing being seated. It took Mara a moment to realize that she'd been addressed.

"Sorry? What was that?"

"Are you settled in, then, Lady Mary?"

"A-actually, it's Ma-"

"We have not been introduced yet," said the woman. "I am the Countess Lucinda, wife of Count-"

"-Richard," she and Mara said simultaneously.

"I beg your pardon?" said the Countess.

"I-- beg _your_ pardon," said Mara. "I interrupted. I shouldn't have. It's just that when the Prince introduced me to the men, I made it a point of memorizing their names."

The Countess stared at her just long enough to make Mara wonder if she had broken any royal etiquette rules, and how many. "That's impressive," said the Countess. "You must have excellent control of your faculties."

Mara opened her mouth to reply, but then it occurred to her that she had no idea if she'd been complimented or insulted. She was grateful, though, not to have to work it out, because the Countess' attention was taken by the woman to her left, leaving Mara alone at the end and with her thoughts.

Suddenly a loud tapping was heard near the center of the table. It was the King, tapping his goblet after it had been filled with wine. He held it and then stood up, prompting all other guests to mimic him. Mara did likewise and held an empty goblet. Then more servants arrived to fill the guests' goblets while the King was speaking.

"My Lords," he said, "And Ladies." He nodded toward each group as he spoke. "Today my son Prince Kelvin has returned from his recent sabbatical, slightly older, perhaps not all that much wiser-" The men chuckled, and one of the dukes nudged the Prince's arm - "But returned he has. Everyone: raise your goblets in a toast to Prince Kelvin!"

"TO PRINCE KELVIN!"

Mara noticed that a few of the servants had paused to watch, and did seem genuinely pleased by the Prince's return. She sipped from her goblet and was pleased by the quality of the wine.

"Thank you all," said the Prince. "I learned and experienced so much while I was away, but it's good to be home again. And I also want those present to know that the Lady M-"

The King cut off the Prince with a gesture, leading to a brief exchange between them that was too low for anyone to hear. She dared to lean in just enough to glimpse the scene, and could tell that the Prince was displeased with whatever the King was telling him. Then the King ended the talk abruptly and returned his attention to the guests.

"Why are you all standing about?" he said. "Sit! Enjoy the meal and the entertainment tonight!"

The guests immediately resumed their conversations and were all smiles as they were re-seated. Although this meal was even larger than the lunch from earlier that day, if such a thing were possible, Mara couldn't help thinking of it as her _last_ meal. In which case, she was determined to enjoy every bite and every drink tonight, but while still making sure to leave scraps that she herself would have loved to find at the _Eleanor Elaine_ , in case these servants had to feed themselves the same way.

****************

There was entertainment in the form of musicians on lute, flute, recorder, drums, and other instruments whose names she had forgotten or never heard. The musicians played all night, by themselves and also for singers, dancers, and even two jugglers. Only the drummer played for the last entertainer of the evening, the Fool, who focused most of his attention on the Prince, with rare asides directed at the King. The Prince clearly enjoyed the good-natured gibes sent his way, and laughed more loudly than the other guests. Mara was greatly impressed by the high quality of each entertainment, and applauded each act enthusiastically, even if the other guests made tepid noises.

Finally the entertainment was done, which marked the end of the evening itself. Now the servants busied themselves clearing the banquet table and helping the guests out of their seats. Even during some of the entertainments, the conversations amongst some guests had not ceased. Their 'favorite subject' must have been too tempting to resist. Imagine if there had been _no_ interruptions.


	10. Osculation and Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story so far!  
> \--The Art of Non-Conversation

\---------------------------

By now Mara was determined to make her own way back to the guest room without a guide. This would be her second trip to and from in one day, and there were torches along the walls to offer a somewhat guided path. Before leaving the banquet hall, she made it a point of wishing the other Ladies a good night, each of whom only muttered their replies. Somehow she had missed the Prince's departure from the room, but the King and Queen were still there, keeping up conversation with lingering guests to the bitter end, so she went to them and waited quietly for either one of them to notice her. Eventually the King sensed her nearness, and turned quickly, as if reacting to a threat.

This startled her more than she had planned it to, but she was learning quickly enough that fear was fear regardless of its source, and needed conquering either way. She took in a sharp breath, then dropped into her final curtsey of the evening. "Your Majesties," she said, struggling to keep her voice from trembling. "I just wanted to-- to thank you for this-- wonderful evening."

"Oh," said the King. "I didn't realize you were still here."

Mara smiled nervously. "I-I'll be returning to my room soon," she said. "I just wanted you to know that I really enjoyed the food, and drink, and-- and entertainment. Thank you, Your Majesties."

"It was for the Prince's benefit, but you are most welcome," said the King disinterestedly, and returned to his talk. It took Mara a few seconds to realize that her conversation with him was ended, and turned to leave the room. The Queen was closer to her than the King, and motioned at Mara to stop.

"You are most welcome, Lady Mara," she said, nodded, then waved her on.

The banquet hall had been so brightly lit that the dimness of the hallway leading to it took her by surprise. But she would find her way back yet. She had made it halfway down before being startled by a man whispering her name.

She reached for a sword that was, once again, not at her side. And Kelvin once again emerged from the shadows. "That's a habit you ought to break around here," he said. "Come; we don't have much time." He motioned for her to follow, and he walked at a brisk pace.

"For what?" she said, hurrying to keep up with him.

"I negotiated fifteen minutes of time with you," he said. "Alone. Shall I escort you back to your room?"

Mara's answer was a girlish giggle - another "habit" she made a note to break.

*******************

Only thirty seconds of their precious time was lost making it back to the guest room. The two burst inside together and wasted _no_ time burying each other in kisses and an unbreakable embrace. After several minutes of this, it was only the distant sound of other voices in other parts of the castle that prompted Kelvin to tear himself away, but only to slam the door shut before diving back in. Several minutes more before Mara's unerring ability to worry about things prompted her to ease up. She spoke in between their kisses.

"Do you -- know -- how much -- time -- has passed?"

Kelvin took his time with his reply and conserved his breath to boot. "No."

This time less than a minute passed before she pulled her lips away just enough to exchange breaths with him. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his. She whispered, "This isn't fair. I want this for all night, but there's no time."

He whispered, "Then let's stop wasting it," and lunged forward into another embrace. She drew back for a moment, then gave in and lost herself again.

Halfway through their allotted time, Kelvin parted from her lips and gently kissed just below her ear, and then caressed his lips slowly down her neck. He had learned on that night at Erick's, when they had given in to their mutual infatuation, that her neck was a very "sensitive" area. Tonight his attentions left her all but motionless in a mix of relaxed bliss. By the time he reached the bottom of her neck, her arms had dropped to her side, her eyes were closed, and her head tilted to give him full rein to her.

If he did not know better, he would have thought her to be asleep, her face seemed so peaceful. Kelvin "woke" her with a gentle kiss to the lips, and then matched her earlier gesture of resting his forehead against hers.

"You're right," he whispered. "It isn't fair."

She placed gentle hands against his cheeks. "Kelvin; I don't know how to ask this without sounding ungrateful, but... why me?"

He regarded her with some curiousity. "I've said why: I love you. You don't believe me?"

"I do," she said. "Very much so. But... I can see what your parents have against me. You brought home the most common of commoners. There's not a scrap of noble blood in me. You know this, yes?"

He smiled. "Yes. But you will, after we're married. A Princess by marriage, but a Princess you will be."

She was silent at that, long enough for him to move in for more kisses. She allowed one, and then pushed him back gently. "You might think me mad for this," she said, "But I've given no thought to that. I thought that a poor minstrel was asking for my hand, not..."

When her words did not return, he cocked an eyebrow. "You'd prefer me a poor minstrel again?"

"It isn't that," she said. "I'm having trouble saying what I mean. Perhaps it's the wine. Your father mentioned _war_ earlier. Is that a possibility? _Would_ people go to war over this? Over me? You ought to know that I've seen wars happen over less."

It was his turn to be silent and lost in thought. Mara caught herself fidgeting - a habit she disliked but could not yet break. She squeezed her hands tightly to restrain them.

She spoke softly. "I don't want to be the cause of war. I've fought in them. I know what they're like. And yet I had never cared about the ones I fought, or even the ones I fought beside. Until now, that is. It would be unbearable if people would want _you_ dead, because of me."

His silence made her wonder if he had heard, but he did at least glance her way at times. She held out her arms and stepped closer. At first he drew away, but then leaned in to it and accepted her embrace.

"I haven't changed my mind," she said. "Poor minstrel or Prince, I still say 'yes.' But if the kingdom were threatened because of me - if _you_ were - then I wouldn't stay. I couldn't. Not if it meant..."

He withdrew quickly from the embrace and held her shoulders, squeezing them as he spoke. There was a touch of alarm to his face and voice. "Please stay," he said. "I need your patience and faith. You already have courage and compassion. There may be no noble blood in you, but you have a noble heart, and that is why I want _you._ The others that Father and Mother chose for me; they each one have admirable qualities, but you have all that I've wished for in a wife. I have faith that it will work. Don't you?"

"Kelvin..." she began, but lost her words. To buy time, she kissed him, then rested her chin on his shoulder. "Why do I find it easier for me to imagine myself with a poor husband? The both of us working and scrabbling for our next meal. Taking any job that we can, until we, perhaps, find our own trade. Kelvin; are you the same man that I said 'yes' to?"

A single, soft laugh escaped. "Yes. I'm still as poor a musician as ever. Just not a poor one."

She smiled and touched his cheek. "Then yes. I have faith." He smiled back and leaned in for a kiss. Now she placed her hand between them. "But do your parents?"

Kelvin sighed, closed his eyes, and again rested his head against hers. "An excellent question. They won't make this easy for us. But if we're unwavering in our devotion to each other, in our courage, _our faith_ , they must come around and make it work for all of us. And especially to avoid war."

"That would ease my mind greatly." She seemed to notice her surroundings for the first time. "Is it me, or is the room brighter than...? Oh..." She looked about to see lighted candles lined up on every flat piece of furniture in the room, save for the bed. The fireplace was also ablaze. It could almost be mistaken for daylight inside the room.

"Who lit all these candles??" she asked. "And how did I not notice them?"

"We were both a bit busy," he said, nudging her in the arm. "Perhaps your servant girl lit them. We do this for guests in case they want to stay up longer at night."

"Heather did this?" she asked. "Oh! I promised to give her a good report to the Queen, and I didn't get the chance tonight."

"Fret not," he said. "You'll have other chances."

"I'm not certain I like thinking of her as a 'servant,' but she really was very... um... what's the word? Oh, _competent_. And attentive. Very polite, too."

"Yes, by all means, tell the Queen about her," he said. "That's very kind of you, you know, to go out of your way for that."

"Why is that very kind? She did a good job. And I did promise."

Kelvin only smiled, tucked his hand under her chin, and leaned in for a gentle brush of their lips. "It just is," he whispered. "I realize that this has been a challenging day for you, but have you enjoyed it? Did you enjoy the banquet tonight?"

"The banquet??" she said, and chuckled. "Is every meal like that? I don't think I need any food or drink for another week! And all those entertainers; they were so good, and-- and I can't find the right words to explain how..."

"Overwhelming?"

"Yes. I think that's the word I need," she said. "It is overwhelming. I keep expecting to wake up, but I never have dreams like this. Mine are usually... Actually, that doesn't matter. They're simply not like this. Certainly not about castles or royalty or even-- er, love."

Kelvin smiled dreamily. "Did you talk to anyone? Make any fast friends?"

"With the women tonight?" she asked, then shook her head. "Not really. A few things were said, and then they spent the rest of the time talking amongst themselves."

"Now that was rude."

"Oh, pay that no mind," she said. "I've endured far worse than being ignored by rich people. Wait: were any of those women ones that you had-- Well, rejected?"

"Oh, no, no, no," he said. "They are wives to some of the Lords here. Two Duchesses and-"

"-A Countess," she said. "She told me that. And one of the women kept fanning herself. I thought it was too cool in the room for that. Don't you think?"

"Oh, you must mean Ruth, Duchess of Gimsley, wife of Duke Wilford."

"Why do rich people have such long introductions?"

Kelvin paused, then smiled and chuckled. "Ah-- Well, perhaps so they can hear their own names longer. Anyway, Mother tells me that the Duchess is going through 'the second change,' which I hear that older women do. Apparently it involves heating up. Hence all the fanning."

"Oh," said Mara flatly. "Something I should be looking forward to, then."

"If it means your living that long, then I'm for it," said Kelvin. He sighed. "Alas, I think our time together has ended. I must honor that agreement with my father. He's... a complicated man. It would take a long time and many tales to adequately describe him."

"I'll just have to trust you, then."

"Thank you," he said. "Your patience, and faith, makes this endurable. I cannot predict their final decision, but as long as you're as sweet, and as kind and as thoughtful towards them as you are towards me, then there is no blame -- or shame -- on you, should the worst happen. And that's a thought I will not entertain right now." He took up her hand and kissed it gently, then held it and patted it slowly while apparently lost in thought. He smiled sadly and pulled away from her to leave.

"May your dreams tonight be a glimpse into heaven," he said, backing away slowly.

She started to reply, but hesitated when she could think of nothing equal to it, and ultimately settled for, "And yours."


	11. A Grand Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story so Far!  
> \--Glimpses of Heaven

\----------------------

This time Mara had managed to crawl under the covers before falling rapidly asleep. Having no other clothing but her old shirt and vest, fabric wrap, boots, and the borrowed dress and cloak, she had left the dress on and slept in that. Her sword security blanket was ever at her side, but in the morning, when there was again a knock at the door, she did not bolt awake and fling it about wildly.

It was not Heather this time at the door, but a different girl named Siobhan, who quietly brought breakfast on a silver tray, consisting of candied fruits, bread, butter, cheeses and a hot drink called "tea" that Mara had never tried. There was cream, as well, which was apparently meant for the tea. This new girl had a more appropriate demeanor for a handmaiden, and left as soon as she had poured the "tea," but just before leaving was persuaded to "give greetings" to Heather on Mara's behalf. Siobhan also had no knowledge of Mara having any other meals that day with the King, Queen, or Prince. It was not that Mara minded being served a private, tasty meal, but knowing anything about what her day would bring might have eased her mind.

After Siobhan left, Mara picked up the tea cup, examined it, smelled it, gulped the tea, and nearly scalded her tongue with it, until she managed to gulp down all of the cream. The candied fruit also helped ease the pain.

*********

An hour or so after finishing breakfast and wondering if anyone would come claim the tray, Mara was extremely bored. She was surrounded by luxurious furnishings and a decent view of the castle grounds, but nothing to do. And not being a fan of idleness, she longed for something to occupy her, or better yet, make use of her. The most excitement she had had so far was to struggle with making the dress and coating fit like the seamstresses had; this effort had mostly failed. What they had done to make it more presentable, she did not know. And when was she supposed to give it back to them?

No one had ordered Mara to stay in the guest room at all times, and in spite of her concern about getting lost inside the castle, she ventured outside of the room for careful exploring. So far the third floor seemed to consist of hallways and other rooms - perhaps guest rooms like her own. Eventually she found a spiral staircase in a corner, and followed it down. Unfortunately the next level down appeared like the one before: more hallways, more closed doors. At the end of one hallway were two very large doors of thick wood and metal, also closed. From their construction she surmised that they led to the King's and Queen's chamber, or perhaps their throne room, or best of all, a treasure room.

The last guess she dismissed as a silly notion. As though there were really a room with piles of gold heaped into small hills. She heard someone exiting a room and shutting its door, and considered hiding or even fleeing, but realized that would also be silly. She was a guest there - a personal guest of the Prince - and that had to count for something. Speaking of personal guests, around the corner came Duke Thomas and one of the Ladies from the banquet, whose name she had not learned, and who she hoped was his wife. A Duchess, then.

She froze in place as they approached. He had a glimmer of recognition in his face, and stopped. She remembered in time that he had gotten a _squeeze_ when they were introduced, so she curtsied to them both and murmured a quick "MyLordMyLady."

"Ah," said the Duke. "Lady Maria, is it?" She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from blurting out a correction. Why were two syllables so difficult for people to remember?

"Yes, My Lord," she said, forcing a smile.

" _Your Grace_ ," the Duke said firmly.

She realized by his tone that she was being corrected. "Er-Your Grace," she said quickly. "My apologies."

"Lost, my dear?" said the Duchess.

"No...Your Grace, just walking about," she said. "Taking in the sights."

"Hm. Well, if you haven't already, you must visit the garden," said the Duchess. "Everything is almost in full bloom."

Mara refrained from informing the Duchess that gardens did nothing for her. Instead she made a quick nod of the head. "I will consider it, Your Grace," she said. "Thank you."

"We have business to attend to, or would linger," said the Duke. "Enjoy your 'walking about,' Lady Maria."

They exchanged nods, and the Duke and Duchess moved on. Mara was about to do the same, and just happened to overhear the Duchess before passing out of earshot: "I'd thought the Prince was not the sort to have a courtesan, but perhaps we were both mistaken." It was to the Duchess's advantage that Mara did not know what a courtesan was, nor to what use one was typically put.

Mara found another spiral staircase in a different corner, and followed it to the ground floor, which she knew had the bathing room and banquet hall. Both were still where she'd left them, and next to the banquet hall was a huge reception area that she had not explored. As in the banquet hall, there were colored-glass windows, tapestries and heavy furniture, but also wall murals, a wall-sized bas relief depicting a chronology of events, and large, metal chandeliers. She decided that she preferred this room to the banquet hall.

Behind her, four armed guards quick-marched their way into the room. She stood her ground as they quick-marched their way towards her; she subtly looked for exit routes other than the main doors. They stopped about ten feet from her. One of the guards pointed at her.

"Are you the Lady Marla?" he asked roughly. _Two syllables..._!

"Fine," she said, not quite succeeding in hiding her frustration. "Yes."

"You will come with us," he said. "The King and Queen demand your presence."

She followed them silently through hallways and up yet more stairs, imagining which punishments they doled out for the crime of Unescorted Wandering. No doubt losing both feet was just the start.

The guards brought her to another set of double doors - not as large as the double doors she'd seen earlier, but ominous enough - and knocked. After a moment a servant opened one door. Mara glimpsed the King inside. As always, he was unsmiling. Proper introductions were made, and suddenly she was inside a room about the size of her guest room, but with sparser furnishings and less light. The servants inside were dismissed. She was alone now with the King and Queen.

A few seconds after the last servant shut the door behind himself, she straightened up, and then dipped once more into a curtsey. "Your Majesties," she said.

The King pointed to a solitary chair facing one of the windows. "Sit," he said. She did so immediately.

"Tell me, child," said the King, "Why is it that we needed to send a contingent of guards to find you and bring you here, after you'd gone missing from your room?"

"I..." she whispered, unable to meet his gaze, and unable to say more.

"When a _King_ asks you a question," he said, "You answer it. Quickly."

"Please forgive me," she said, and forced herself to look up. The sun was behind them both, silhouetting them. "I-I had no intention of causing an alarm. I-I thought it was permitted for me to explore the castle. It won't happen again."

"No, it won't," said the King. "Not without an escort."

"I understand."

"Now to business," he said. "When we asked the Prince, he gave a rather... unsatisfactory answer. So we will ask you: what is it about you that makes him think you have the makings of a Princess?"

Mara took time to consider her answer, and she kept looking down, which did not suit the King.

" _Why do you think you're fit to be a Princess_?" he asked. She looked up immediately.

"I don't," she said quickly. The King raised an eyebrow. "That is-- What I mean to say is that I don't know - exactly - what a Princess does. But I will tell you this: whatever a Princess is supposed to do or be, I swear to you both that I will perform any task, commit to any duties or responsibilities, and do my best at them."

"You 'swear' to do this?" said the King, incredulous.

"Please, Your Majesties," she said. "I am not an idle person. I need work, tasks, activities, being of use. I could not bear a life of nothing but being bathed and dressed and being served by others. I want to-- I want to earn my keep here. Tell me what a Princess does, and I will do it."

She was surprised that the King and Queen had no answer for her at first. They exchanged looks, and the King stroked his chin in thought while regarding her in silence. Again it became difficult for her to meet either one's gaze.

"A Princess's duty, first and foremost," said the King, "Is to provide suitable heirs to the throne."

Her reply was one of quiet incomprehension.

"Children," said the Queen.

"...Children?" she said, swallowing. "And... nothing more?"

"It would be inaccurate to say so," said the Queen, "But providing heirs _would be_ your _first_ duty to the kingdom."

"Which you swore to fulfill," said the King. "Did you not?"

"...Yes, Your Majesties," she said quietly. "I did so swear."

"This seems to trouble you," said the Queen.

"I... It was... unexpected," said Mara. "That is all. I'm just used to being busy with many tasks, and I've been told that only _one_ -"

The Queen laughed. "Trust me, child. There is _no such thing_ as 'idleness' when it comes to the raising of children."

"Oh," said Mara, forcing her own laugh, "I'm-- You would be correct, I'm sure."

"That is not to say that we have made our decision about you," said the King. "That must be clear to you. Do not presume that we are assuring you of our blessing."

"Oh, I would not presume so, no, Your Majesty," she said. "But there is another thing I will swear to you, and I care nothing for its consequences: I swear that, no matter what, I will stand by Kel-- the Prince, as his wife and-- and companion. I will stand by him."

" 'No matter what,' you say?" said the King.

"He would do the same for me," she said. "H-he already has. Is doing."

"It surprises me to think," said the King, "That I agree with you."

Mara smiled, then suppressed it. "I'm glad. Your Majesty."

"In fact, he tells us suspect tales of your worthiness," he said.

"S-suspect?"

"The Prince is fond of describing you as some sort of savior," said the King. "He insists that you 'saved his life' out there. Is that true?"

"...Saved his life?" said Mara. "I'm not certain-- Well, yes, he said the same to me, but I don't think of it like that. I helped him get work. A job, that is. But I hesitate to call it 'saving his life.' "

"I thought so," said the King. "The Prince can be given to exaggeration."

"There was the time he was very sick, though," said Mara, more to herself than the two monarchs. "Perhaps he meant that?"

"What was that again?" said the Queen, her voice rising. "Did you say he was sick? When? How?"

"Well, about two-"

"Did he have dark markings upon him? Buboes? Lesions??" said the Queen, growing more agitated. The King's expressions matched hers, but he did not speak.

"Oh, no, no, no," said Mara. "Your Majesties. W-we think he had bad food. He fully recovered in but a few days. But for at least a day he was very weak, he was vomiting, he had chills-" She gasped. "Oh, no. You were thinking of the plague? It couldn't have been that. And you've seen for yourself that he's recovered?"

She looked from one to the other and waited for an answer. Her patience was needed here, for it took a long minute before either spoke again. It was the King first.

"What exactly did you do during this time?" he asked.

"I looked after him, Your Majesty," she said.

"You may stop calling us that," he said. "For now. How did you 'look after him?' "

"Well..." she said, shifting in the chair, "He had been up all night, retching and with the chills. Neither of us slept. I found a bucket for him to, um, _expel_ into, and brought him some water. He wasn't keeping anything down during the night. In the morning, our boss wanted him to keep working, but I argued him out of it. Ke-- The Prince was too weak and ill. Unfortunately that lost him his wages for the day. I also put cool cloths on his forehead and brought soft foods. And some herbs from an apothecary. Perhaps those helped? And he did get better during the day. I mean that he was able to keep down food and drink, but he was still weak from the ordeal. And then-- eventually he got better altogether. I would have stayed with him all the time on the worst day, but I had to keep working, too."

"What do you mean?" asked the Queen.

"We were both working at an inn," she said with a shrug. "We had to take care of the guests and everything else for the business. Kenneth - I-I mean Kelvin, the Prince - he called himself Kenneth then - worked with me, but he happened to be sick that one day, and I had to help him somehow. I'm... I'm very glad that he recovered. Please forgive me: he had told me about the plague, and who you'd lost, and I'd- very briefly- forgotten. Is it too late to offer my condolences?"

"It never is," said the King. "And it sounds as though the Prince was not exaggerating this time, after all."

"About...?"

"Saving his life."

Mara shrugged. "I-I'm certain it's because he was already healthy and strong. And he would have done likewise for me. We both shared our food and drink, and chores. We had to. I was only trying to help."

Another uncomfortable – for her – silence fell. The Queen broke it. "I should like to meet this 'boss' of his, and yours."

"Erick?" said Mara. "Money is important to him, but I don't think he had any malice. I think he thought K-- the Prince had been drinking, but he hadn't been. He understood soon enough it was no trick."

"Nevertheless..." said the Queen, and trailed off. "You may stand now, child."

"You are free to go," said the King. Mara curtsied and turned to leave. "We may send for you again, so do not make a habit of wandering the halls unescorted."

"I will not, Your Majesty," she said, reddening.

"Child," said the Queen. Mara turned her way and waited. "Thank you."

Mara's eyes widened a little, and she blinked a few times, then curtsied again.

"You're welcome, Your Majesty." She did not know the reason for the gratitude, but did not care. A _Queen_ had thanked her.

*******************

An older, portly gentleman was standing in the hallway as Mara approached the guest room. She slowed her pace as she realized that he was standing by the door, and eyed him warily. As she neared, he straightened up.

"Lady Mara?" he said. _What? Somebody had gotten it right?_

"Yes?"

Suddenly he bowed to her, which struck her as oddly... comforting. He clasped his hands together as he spoke. "I have been charged by His Royal Highness the Prince to grant you a grand tour of this castle, and its grounds," he said, adding a flourish to the r's and a sweeping gesture on "grand."

"The Prince sent you?" she asked, her face brightening. "Where is he now?"

"No doubt attending to other business, My Lady," said her would-be guide. He pronounced all of the words with precision, unlike anywhere else here that she'd heard. "Shall we begin now, or is there a more convenient time?"

"I... No," she said. "That is, this is a good time. I've been hoping to see more of this place."

"Then see it you shall," he said. "Is there anything you wish to bring with you?"

She was not inside the guest room, but looked around as if trying to spot objects within. Then she pulled up her dress just enough to confirm that her boots were still there. "I don't think I need anything," she said.

"Very good, My Lady," he said, and gestured in the direction they were to begin.

After assuring her that the tour indeed counted as "escorted," Solomon, the guide, first led her around her own floor, describing the original uses of various rooms, including her own, compared to their current uses. Her room had originally been used for storage, which surprised Mara much less than he realized. Apparently she was always going to be sleeping in closets, no matter their size. Other rooms had been servants' quarters, or libraries, and even armories at one point.

Solomon also described previous occupants after they had been converted to guest rooms: the more salacious their activities, the more he seemed to enjoy telling of them. Mara was just trying to keep up with all of the stories and hoped she wouldn't be quizzed on them as part of her "worthiness" to be a Princess.

The second floor turned out to be more interesting. Without knowing it (but suspecting it), she had passed by the King's and Queen's royal chambers, and was surprised to learn that they had separate chambers. Mara asked about this, and got a matter-of-fact "Well, of course" as the reply. Her heart quickened when they reached the Prince's chambers - sadly, with closed doors. She very, very much wanted to knock on the door, but Solomon somehow managed to dissuade her and to move on. At least now she knew which chambers were his.

It was clear that her tour was not going to include visiting any room considered private, such as the royal chambers, study, library, and so on. Therefore, the first floor, with its large halls, got more time and more stories. Many of them involved which esteemed guests had spent time there, how lavish some parties had been, and salacious tales of old that interested her less than Solomon might have guessed. To these, she smiled and nodded to often. He also brought her past the royal kitchen, but did not linger. As they passed she got as good a look inside as she could. Even from the peek she could tell it was far better-equipped than anything that Erick had. But then, this was a _royal_ kitchen.

Finally the tour continued outside, on the castle grounds. It was good to see and feel full sunlight again, and a fresh breeze. The grounds seemed a bit smaller, albeit still of impressive size, than she recalled when first passing through, especially compared to the outside. As if sensing her question, Solomon explained that the grounds consisted of an outer and _inner_ wall, for better security. She silently agreed. As they walked and he talked, she learned that the stone, corner towers in both sets of walls served many purposes, from jails to well-appointed guest residences to storage to points of defense, and so on. Of more interest to her were the various structures along the inside wall, giving the appearance of the main road of any town or village. In a sense, they were, for the structures were both businesses and homes. Whatever a town, village or city needed was here: blacksmiths, carpenters, coopers, cobblers, tailors, seamstresses, bakers, butchers, physicians, apothecaries, and on. No inns, though. The tradespeople lived above their businesses, to no surprise. The guards had their own barracks along another part of the grounds. Servants that worked inside the castle also had dwellings along the inner walls.

Opposite where most of the businesses were situated were the various guest houses for visiting Lords, Ladies, and well-connected commoners. They were separate from the main castle that stood tall in the center of the grounds. It was the first time she'd gotten a good look at the castle. It was mostly a giant cube, being only slightly taller than it was long or wide, broken up by windows on every story and the occasional shallow balcony. Those struck her as somewhat insecure; enemies could put a ladder right next to one or grapple their way up. Then they could pore right in. But who was she to recommend improvements?

Overall the castle's size was impressive even if its outer decor was not. This hardly bothered her, given its luxurious interior accommodations. For a moment Mara struggled again with a disbelief of her situation. But surely she would have woken by now, if it was all only a dream?

It was with great pride that Solomon brought her to the royal gardens, which were actually available to anyone living within the grounds, but more often visited by the royals and their guests. Given that Mara was herself a guest, he had no qualms about bringing her inside. The garden was fenced in, but not such a fence as to block anyone's view - merely to contain its growth.

Fortunately Mara had not mentioned to the Duchess her indifference to gardens, for she would have been forced to eat her words. The colors, smells, and even sounds within threatened to take her breath away. It seemed that every flower she could recall seeing in her travels, growing in their own patches in the wild, had been collected and brought together and nurtured. She had seen gardens before, but not this _garden_. The brilliance of the colors almost hurt her eyes. As they walked and he talked, she noticed more than one archway that they passed through had been grown into that shape and meticulously maintained. Flora of every kind were arranged in attractive patterns and the most complimentary colors. Scattered about on the grounds were elegantly carved wooden benches, some of which blended in so well with the scenery, they seemed to have been grown into their shapes.

She was reluctant to leave, but there was more to the tour, and also, the midday meal was approaching quickly. It was not like her to lose track of time like that; this experience had actually been... quite enjoyable. The rest of the tour was something of a blur; Solomon may have been trying to wrap things up so he, too, could eat. And when it finally ended, and Solomon returned her to the castle and her room, she pondered those areas that had _not_ been part of the tour, besides private chambers: the crown jewels, occupied jails, "the basement," and other areas no doubt too sensitive to the kingdom's security for her insecure eyes to see.


	12. A Long-Delayed Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one could be rated PG-13 due to subject matter. (But no nudity. That's good or bad news, depending on what you're looking for here).
> 
> Modern folks take certain kinds of education for granted. But when you've learned nothing from nobody...

\-------------------

The midday meal was also brought to her room, this time by a male attendant whose name she did not hear before he left. Like Siobhan, he was efficient, mannered, and quiet. She wanted to decline his offer to pour tea, but knew better than to turn away any sort of food or drink, other than purely rotten bits. This meal was anything but rotten, of course, and after the attendant left, she dove in, but gave the tea plenty of time to cool itself.

The solitude did not bother Mara as it had during her breakfast. The happy memories of the castle tour notwithstanding, the quiet afforded her the opportunity to reflect on the morning's talk with the King and Queen. There had to be some use for a Princess other than "producing heirs to the throne." What about doing everything the Prince did for the kingdom? If she actually _knew_ what the Prince did, that is. She needed to ask him about that. And needed to find the courage to tell him about certain concerns, before he learned of them the hard way.

A vigorous knock at the door roused her from her thoughts. She also realized that she had stopped eating while pondering her situation. She made it to the door just as another round of knocking began.

The Prince flashed his heart-melting smile and waited for her response. When she only smiled back, he leaned through the doorway and whispered, "Another fifteen minutes."

"What?"

"We have fifteen minutes again," he said, "And I want to show you something."

She wasted no time following him through the hallway and to the second floor. He spoke as they walked.

"Did Solomon find you? Did you get a tour of the grounds?"

"Yes," she said. "Yes! Thank you. Thank you so very much. It's just what I needed. It feels as if I've been inside for a week, though I know that isn't true."

"Same here," he said. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. He's a fine storyteller, isn't he?" She nodded. "And please accept my apologies that you've been eating alone today. My father has wasted no time throwing me back into the day-to-day workings of the kingdom. It's all been business, business at each meal."

"Oh, I take no offense at all," she said. "It's been... helpful. It's given me a chance to think about things."

"You'll join us for dinner, I promise," he said. She only replied with a smile. Soon enough they reached a door that she recognized.

"Oh, I remember here from the tour," she said. "Solomon said that you and your parents are in this wing, but I can't enter any of the rooms."

"Can't you?" Kelvin said, opened the door to his chambers, and gestured for her to enter first. She blushed before stepping inside, and gasped. The room was twice the size of her guest room, with a larger bed, larger dressers, wardrobes, fireplace, looking glass-- larger everything. He also had a shallow balcony with two thick doors leading out to it. Each corner of the room had stone pillars covered with carvings resembling ivy and vines. Other than the ubiquitous stone, given this was a castle, the walls and ceilings were accented with oak stained to a rich reddish-brown that gave Mara a subtly warm feeling.

Kelvin indicated the whole of the room to her. "What do you think?" he asked.

"I think you must be very comfortable here," she said. He smiled and took her hand to guide her to another door in a far corner. It led to a second room which appeared to be a mirror image in terms of size and location of fixtures, but was not a bedroom. It appeared to be a library or study of sorts. Large shelves along two walls contained books, scrolls, stacked papers, and all sorts of odd knick knocks and collectible items. There were more wardrobes and dressers, too, so perhaps he used it for extra storage. One person with two whole rooms.

"This used to be Robert's bedroom," he said. "We were given the opportunity to have our own chambers, but we decided to have these adjoining rooms instead. When he died, I-- repurposed it a little, but kept many of his keepsakes. Mementos. Other things." He led her to a large, painted portrait over the fireplace, which was surrounded by sitting furniture. The portrait was of two young men, and a young woman seated between them. The young men stood behind her with somewhat regal poses and expressions, but each with a gentle hand on her shoulder. The young woman sat straight in her chair, but had a relaxed look to her face, and the slightest of smiles. The young man on the portrait's right looked familiar.

"It's the three of you," she said quietly.

"Yes," he said. "We sat for it a year before the plague struck." He tugged slightly on her hand and gestured to this room's door. "Come. I have something else to show you."

"The likeness to you is very good," she said, still looking at the picture. "Is it the same for them?"

Kelvin stared at the painting a few moments. He whispered, "Yes," And gestured again for her to follow. She did so now, and he led her back into the hallway, to a room right next to his study. He opened it and let her enter ahead of him.

The room was the same size and layout of Kelvin's bedroom, including a similar balcony, but with white-washing on the stone walls, and the oak lacing the walls and ceilings painted yellow. The carefully-preserved furniture had also been painted light colors that either matched or complemented each other. The furniture, curtains, the decor, the bedding, the paintings - everything spoke instantly of a young woman's room.

She whispered, "Flora."

"Yes," said Kelvin, stepping up beside her. "Flora's room. Do you like it?"

"It's lovely," said Mara. "I-I mean I'm not only saying that to be kind. It's very light, and there's a cheerfulness here."

"Shall we see her parlor?"

The adjoining room, also painted in light colors, was a parlor, a sitting room, a study, a receiving room. A small, round table near four large windows still had a tea set on it as if ready to serve guests. There was no dust, dirt or grime to be seen. Somebody had been tending to it all these years.

"Do you like it?" said Kelvin.

"You've asked me again," said Mara. "Why does it matter?"

"Because," said Kelvin, "I shouldn't make promises this early, but this could be your room."

"My--? Oh, I couldn't," she said. "This is her room. You should keep it as is, yes?"

" _Was_ her room," said Kelvin. "And like you, Flora was sweet and kind, but practical. She wouldn't want the room to never be used again. That would be a waste."

"What about your parents? Won't they object?"

Kelvin gave his answer some thought. "Possibly," he said. "But they, too, are practical people. After all, Robert's room wasn't left as a museum. I made it my own, but preserve his memory nonetheless."

"I don't know," she said quietly. "And this is so large. What would I do with _two_ rooms?"

"Think about it," he said, and leaned over to kiss her gently. He withdrew, then placed his hand on her cheek. Now she lunged forward into a deep kiss that lasted over a minute. When they parted, she rested her head on his shoulder, and he did the same to hers.

He whispered, "You spoke with my parents this morning."

"Yes."

"I hope that it was a pleasant talk."

She did not answer right away, but closed her eyes and breathed deeply several times, then straightened up so they could see eye to eye. She opened her mouth several times to speak, then took several more deep breaths for courage.

"Kelvin," she said, "If we're married... do you expect me to bear children?"

"Of course," he said with no delay.

"Of course," she whispered, and looked down briefly. "It really was-- ssstupid of me to ask. But is it because you _want_ them, or because it's simply what people do?"

"First, you're not stupid," he said. "Second, yes, I do want them. I always have. And not just to continue the royal line. And yes, it is 'what people do.' Marriage, and then children follow."

"Yes, yes, you did say that," she said. "I remember."

"Mara, what's wrong?" he said. "You seem troubled by this."

She forced a laugh. "That's what your par- the King and Queen said. They wondered if I'm troubled by it."

"Are you?"

Mara forced another smile, which broke down quickly. She looked down to focus on gathering her courage.

" _Please tell me_ ," said Kelvin. The pleading in his voice gave her the fortitude to be out with it.

"I have..." she said, her voice wavering, "I have reason to believe, that I would not survive bearing a child."

"You speak of the dangers of childbirth?" said Kelvin. "Darling, I know it would be foolish to expect no risk, but you're young. Strong. Healthy. You've survived so many hardships, surely you'd-"

"I don't mean that," she said. "Please forgive me, Kelvin. I should have said this before, but I lacked the courage. In fact, I'll understand if you want no more of me after learning this."

"Enough," he said, a little impatiently. "Be plain with me. What- is- the matter?"

"I have been cursed!" she spat out. "I was cursed to die, if I ever bore a child."

"...What?" said Kelvin. "Why? Who-- By whom? Who would do such a thing?"

"My mother," she said. "And I don't blame her. She-"

"Your _mother_? How could-??"

"Please let me tell this," she said, and he calmed himself. "I didn't before, and I should have. When you asked about her, I stopped you and said never to ask again. But I should have told you. I should have--" She took another breath. "I killed my own mother, Kelvin. She died because of me."

"...Words fail me," he said, taking a step back. "What did-? How-?"

"I came out the wrong way," she said. Kelvin tilted his head. "I wouldn't come out because I was turned around the wrong way - legs first, I think - and couldn't come out. And then... my father... he finally had to cut her."

"Oh, no..."

"I wouldn't come out unless I was cut out," she said, her lips trembling. "So-- he did and-- then as she lay dying, bleeding to death from a wound that I had caused, she cursed me to die the same way. To die if I ever bore a child. I-- I suppose it would also come out the wrong way. I don't know."

"May I...?" said Kelvin, holding up a hand, "May I ask something?" She nodded. "Am I to understand, that when you say you 'killed' your mother, you mean that she died in childbirth? And he- your father - blamed _you_ for it?"

"Who else could be blamed?"

"That's why I asked," he said. "Mara, your father blamed a newborn babe - _You_ \- an infant, for this?"

She seemed taken aback by this, and then recovered. "As I said, who else could be blamed?"

" _No one_ ," he said. "Women... There are many who do not live through the birth. No one blames the child."

"Well... Well, she did!" said Mara. "Did you forget her cursing me with her dying breath? He never let me forget that."

To her surprise, and frustration, he shook his head. "I don't believe that. I cannot believe that."

"Were you there?" she said. "How would you know this? He was there and... Kelvin: the very first thing I did in this world, I did wrong. _Dead_ wrong. And every year, on my birthday - her _death_ day - he would send me away so he could be alone, but was sure to remind me of what I'd done."

Kelvin ran his fingers along the hair of his forehead, and sighed. "I am so sorry, Darling. Words fail me. You haven't said much about your father, and until now, nothing of your mother. But what you _have_ said of him..." He tried to say more, then could only rub his hair again.

"Kelvin, I-" she began. Her voice broke, but she continued. "I understand if you... If you don't want to... I mean, if you wish to _end_ our..."

"The marriage?" he said. She nodded. His first response was a scoff. "Wh- _No_. That's far and away the last thing I wish to do."

"But the curse-"

"There is no curse," he said. "You lost your mother in a most tragic way; there is nothing to doubt about that. But your father; to tell you such _lies_. My blood boils. I must beg your forgiveness. Out of respect, I have been silent about what you've told me, but I can be silent no longer. I-- I cannot. Forgive me, but your father-- If your father were here, before me now, I would need to be dragged from the room, lest harm come to him!"

She gasped. "You call him a liar, and now say that, too?!"

"Hear me!" he said, "Hear me. This is because of _your own words_ , Mara. All I know of him, I learned from you. And from you, I have learned that your father was an angry, hateful, cruel and... and a _brute_ of a man who twisted the final memory of _your mother_ and _his own wife_ , a-and raised you to believe yourself a murderer? And that you were stupid, and ugly, and-- worthless! And I will tolerate no more of it!"

She spat, "How _dare_ you say such things about him!! He alone raised me! By himself! No one else! H-he was all I had! How could I not honor him?"

"Why did he not honor you??" said Kelvin. She only glared. "Hm? I want to be wrong about him. Please, Mara. Tell me of any moment of kindness from him. Any tenderness. Telling you stories at night. Comforting you when you were afraid, or sad, or 'just because.' Did he ever smile at you? Hold you? Praise you?"

She was too overwhelmed with a paralyzing mix of anger, confusion and sadness to speak.

"Mara?" said Kelvin. "Was there any love from him at all?"

" _Why would there be_??" she snapped. "From the moment I was born, there was nothing I did right! From killing my own mother, to... to every chore I had. Everything that I was supposed to _do_. I couldn't do anything as he wanted it. Not cooking or cleaning or looking after the cattle. Sewing. Repairing. Not even fighting. He wanted me to be like him. To fight. I was never good enough at that, either. And worst of all, _the very worst of all_ , is that he wanted a son. I failed even at _that_."

"You say there is no curse," she continued, "But there is. I have proof. Not long ago, five, six years ago, I began bleeding. There was no wound, and yet I bled. And he - Father - told me... He told me it was a reminder of it, that she was sending me, because I was 'coming of age,' he said. And it hasn't stopped. Every month - every time of the waxing moon - I bleed. Again, from no wound. Not enough to die and it stops in days, but enough to remind me: she's watching me. Waiting."

Kevin's mouth was open, but he appeared unable to speak.

"So," she said, trembling, "Yes. There it is. You say he lied to me, and there it is. Someday this curse will catch up to me. And I am so sorry I didn't tell you this, Kelvin. I am so sorry."

"Darling," he said softly. He placed his hands on her shoulders. She withdrew some, but not enough to pull away. "Hear me: there's nothing to be sorry for. My mind is unchanged."

She finally looked to him, but was perplexed, not gladdened. "Even knowing this, you...?"

"Yes," he said. "I want to ask you something first, though. If I may." She nodded. "You had no sisters. No cousins, aunts, nieces, grandmother... no female relatives or friends? No one to talk to about these things? No other _women_?"

"No," she grumbled. "You know that already."

He sighed, but hidden in it was a smile. He squeezed her shoulders. "Then there is nothing you've told me that's changed my mind about your father. Whether it be from malice or his own ignorance, he told you that a woman's monthly bleeding was a sign of something monstrous. I cannot - will not - forgive him for that."

Her mouth tightened. He felt her trembling, but kept on in as calm a voice as he could muster. "If you'd had the chance to speak to other women - any other women - you might have learned that what he insisted was a curse against you, is _common_ for women."

She said flatly, "What-- what are you talking about. 'Common.' What-- How would _you_ know this?"

He held up a hand. "I know, I am a man, so I understand you'll think I know nothing at all about women, but I have been taught and tutored all my life. Many subjects, including Medicine. It happens to all - well, most - women at certain ages. You're in that age."

"That can't be," she said, shaking her head. "That's ridiculous. There can't be-- _Every_ woman isn't under a curse like mine."

"It is not a _curse_ ," he said. "It is natural. Perhaps your father himself was ignorant of that, but I doubt it. He had to at least know it from his wife - your mother - but then to convince you that this natural thing is something to be feared? Something that heralds your doom? And no, I was not there, nor did I know your mother, but I still cannot believe that she died with a _curse_ on her lips. It is always a great sadness and a tragedy when a woman dies in childbirth, but do you truly believe that every woman who died so, cursed her own child? That they all blamed an innocent babe of matricide, and not a tragic accident of birth? _Accident_ , Mara. Without intention. Without malice. An accident. A mother knows this. She knows. Yours had to, too. You just have to trust me."

"But..." she whispered, "But why would he tell me that if it wasn't true? Why would he...?" Her voice trailed off.

"I don't know," he said. "I don't know why he directed all of his rage and his hatred at you, but he did."

"I spent my whole life hoping she'd forgive me," said Mara, her lips trembling. "And when I started to think that-- perhaps she had, but then the bleeding started-- Why does that happen? How could _bleeding_ for days be 'natural?' You say all women do this? Why?"

Kelvin threw up his hands. "You must ask someone more knowledgeable than I," he said, then snapped his fingers. "A midwife. Yes, a midwife could answer _any_ question you had about women. Perhaps even why 'it' happens."

"And curses?"

"They shouldn't know about curses," he said quickly. "They're strictly forbidden here from practicing witchcraft." He took both of her hands into his, and squeezed them gently. "Hear me, my love; you are not _worthless_. You are not _stupid_. You are not _ugly_. And you absolutely _did not_ 'kill' your mother. If she were here, now, I think she would be proud of you. **I** am proud of you. You are the most-"

Mara had been listening to him with a jumble of chaotic emotions, yet had been still and betrayed none of her feelings, until his last words. Then to both of their surprise she burst into loud tears, and after a moment, fell forward and buried her face on his shoulder. He was taken aback, but recovered quickly and held her, making no effort to stop the weeping.

"You were right," she bawled.

"Shhhhh," he said. "You don't need to speak."

" _No_ , you were right," she said, fighting to get the words out. "Everything you said about him. You're right. I had those same thoughts for years. No, all my life! But I pushed them down, always. I was ashamed of those thoughts. He was my father; I had to honor him! He had raised me! Yet he hated me-- _so much_ \-- and I wanted-- I tried so hard, all the time, for him to just-- I wanted him to be proud of me, _just once_ , and he never was. _He never was_!" Her words dissolved into a sea of tears. Kelvin said nothing, but kissed her once on the nape of her neck, then rested his chin on her shoulder.

There was a rapid knocking at the door. Mara fought to quiet her tears, but Kelvin parted and gestured for her to stay. He went to the door and opened it only a crack. It was Solomon, looking frantic but contrite.

"Please pardon me, Your Highness," he said, "But the King has requested your presence. Immediately."

"Thank you," said Kelvin. "I will be out in a moment." He started to shut the door, but Solomon pushed on it.

"He was rather insistent on this, Your Highness," he said. "Something about a time limit?"

"I will bear his wrath, Solomon," said Kelvin. "I will join you in just a moment."

He shut the door and hurried back to Mara, who had managed to push down her tears for now.

"I heard him," she said, wiping her nose. "You should go. I've made us go over our time."

"It's a cruelly small amount of time," he said.

"But better than none?"

"I will not leave you until I'm assured that you're all right," he said. "Perhaps not _all_ right, but can you manage? Just say the word and-"

"Go," she said. "'Go' is my word. These have been... good tears, I think. The only good tears I've had. I have much to think about, but-- No, go. Please. I'll be fine."

"I'll see you tonight?"

"Yes. Go."

Kelvin hesitated, then snatched up one of her hands, kissed it, let go, then fixed his hair and his clothes as he made his way from the room. He looked back one last time before shutting the door. Mara closed her eyes and let out one long, loud sigh, then practiced relaxing herself with slow, deep breaths. In time she felt a calmness that she had no memory of ever feeling before. Almost, but not quite, a true peace. Then a sudden coolness surrounded her body; the hairs on her arms stood up, and she felt something like, but could not be, a person's embrace. Her eyes still closed and her breathing still slow and deep, Mara held out her arms just slightly as if returning the embrace, but held only cool air.

She opened her eyes, but saw nothing. The coolness went away. There was an eerie silence and stillness to the room.

"Flora?" whispered Mara, but there was no answer. Of course there was no answer. Without another word, and as quietly as possible, Mara left the room and returned to her own on the third floor.


	13. The Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strong "PG-13" here. If it makes you uncomfortable, take heart; this sort of thing, and worse, still happens today in the real world.

\---------------------------

Two days had passed since Mara had been shown Kelvin's, and possibly her, private chambers. The two most notable events during this time, other than the epiphany about her father, were that she had finally managed to give her positive review of Heather to the Queen - who reacted anticlimactically to the report - and that the royal seamstresses had completed one of her dresses. Not from scratch, but by modifying an existing dress. Her other garments would take time and would be from scratch. The women brought the first gown directly to her guest room, but Mara resisted being undressed in front of them, women or not. Fortunately they had brought a folding screen.

Mara put on the outfit herself behind the screen, and got the gist of it, but the women did need to step in and make a lot of final adjustments for her. Aside from being a perfect fit, the colors, according to the women, complemented her body's coloring and enhanced her already "regal" bearing. Mara just went along with their chattering and nodded at appropriate times. There was no full-length looking glass in the room, but she could get a sense of her appearance from the feel and cut of the dress. The main garment was satin, dyed emerald green and with gold trim at the ends of the hanging sleeves and woven around the neckline. Another wide belt of brown leather gave her a waist; she was not an especially curvy woman, and the seamstresses insisted that it would accentuate her figure. Mara continued nodding at appropriate times. After the women had declared their first delivery a success, she thanked them all sincerely for their work and skill, and returned the "loaner" dress from several days before. The women appreciated the gratitude, and before gathering their equipment and leaving, were once again aghast that she was still wearing her well-worn, leather boots. The truth of it was that it hadn't occurred to Mara to seek out lady shoes, and nobody other than those women seemed to have noticed yet.

****************

The seamstresses had managed to finish their business before breakfast, though Mara would have appreciated the extra time in bed. The morning meal was a private affair again. Her attendant this time was a nervous and awkward girl named Viola, who accidentally dropped one of the tea cups and was too flustered by it to speak coherently. Mara listened closely and tried to decipher her words, and gave up. At least she was able to make herself understood by the girl that no real harm had been done. Viola stumbled on her dress while curtseying, and then left in a hurry. Mara actually appreciated the lack of perfection, even if the girl had not.

Thirty minutes later a messenger, not Solomon this time, announced that her presence was requested by the King and Queen. Mara surmised that another interrogation was in order. In fact, she was brought to the same sparse, shadowy room where she had been before. The difference was that Kelvin was here, too. He stood beside his father, and given his solemn expression and odd reluctance to make eye contact with Mara, she realized that there was only one purpose for this meeting: they had made their decision about the marriage, and it was not in her favor. She braced herself for the terrible news.

"Lady Mara," said the King, "This morning you will meet with the royal physician, for the purpose of determining your general health, as well as your purity."

 _Or for that purpose_, she thought, letting herself breathe again.

"...Yes, Your Majesty," she said, looking to Kelvin for any silent explanations he could give. He had none. In fact, he still could not fully meet her gaze.

"You will be thoroughly examined," said the King. "You will cooperate fully with the physician's instructions. This is required for his results to be accurate."

"What is...?" she said. "May I ask what you mean by 'thoroughly'? Your Majesties?"

"You may ask..." said the King, and allowed the slightest of smiles to peek through his serious countenance. Kelvin's face suddenly lit up.

"Why, Mara, is that a new dress?" he said. "Did the seamstresses finish them for you? You look absolutely... It's stunning! Please: let us see all sides!"

She gave in to his gushing and grinned broadly. "Oh... Yes, they brought this this morning," she said, and started to turn around. "You mean, you like it?"

"Son, do not change the subject," said the King. "We don't have all day for this."

"I only wanted to acknowledge her new clothes, and lighten the mood," said Kelvin. "Father, at least let us explain the purpose of the visit."

"I have already done this," said the King. "Determining her good health and her purity."

"I don't understand what you mean by my 'purity.'"

The Queen spoke. "You must understand that it is required of you to be... pure and untouched, child."

Mara's expression made it clear that she did not.

"A virgin," said the King. "Untouched by man."

"Oh!" said Mara, perking up. "Your Majesties, I can save you the trouble. I swear to you that no man has ever touched me. Except Ke-- the Prince, that is."

There was a pause, and then as one, the King and Queen turned their gaze towards Kelvin and glared. A moment later he realized what had been said. He waved both hands frantically and shook his head.

"Nononono!" he said. "Father- Mother- she meant a different thing than you're thinking!"

"Oh, _really_?" said the King.

"It's what I've been trying to explain to you all this time," said Kelvin. "For her, 'touching' means _any_ sort of touching. We have embraced. We have kissed. Nothing more!"

"Kelvin..." she said, looking away, embarassed.

"We may take her word on this, sire," said Kelvin. "Believe m-"

" _The law is the law_ ," said the King. "This is not up for debate."

"You believe that I have broken the law?" asked Mara.

"No, child," said the Queen. "Silas, please. Let us get this over with."

"Agreed," said the King, and moved past Mara to open the door himself. "We will be accompanying you. Come."

Kelvin passed her now, glancing her way with an unhappy expression. The Queen stood beside her.

"Walk with us, child," she said.

*******************

The royal physician's chambers consisted of a small waiting area in front, with a door leading to his study and examination room. He was in the front room to greet the royals and his new patient.

"This is the Lady Mara," said the King. The doctor nodded in greeting. He was stout, bearded, dressed in an all-black robe and wearing a tall hat that may have had a practical purpose, but she could not determine it.

"And this is Sir William of Gull, our royal physician," said the King. Mara decided to err on the side of protocol, and curtseyed to him. "Sir William, you understand which examinations are to be conducted?" asked the King.

"Yes, Your Majesty," said the physician.

"I don't," said Mara.

Kelvin tried to speak, but was interrupted by the physician extending a hand to Mara. "Shall we begin, My Lady?" asked the physician.

Mara glanced at the others worriedly, then nodded quickly, but did not take his hand. She followed him through the door.

The physician's study/examination room was brighter than she expected. His large windows faced the east and were filled with the morning sun. There was another man with the physician - an assistant, perhaps - who glanced her way before returning to his preparations. He was placing various tools on a small table situated next to a larger table covered with a sheet. The physician went to his desk in the corner to review papers of some kind. The assistant finished with the tools and dragged a tri-fold screen closer to Mara.

"You will need to remove your garments," said the assistant.

Mara eyed him quizzically. "What's that now?"

"Your garments," he said. "Step behind the screen and remove them."

"Which garments do you mean?"

"All of them."

Mara looked wide-eyed at the assistant, then the physician. "No," she said. "Whatever it is you do for these 'thorough examinations,' I will be clothed for them." She heard the physician sigh.

"My Lady, will you step this way, please?" said the physician. She turned to see him beckoning her over. She set her jaw and went to him.

"Was the purpose of these examinations explained to you?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," she said. "No, actually. 'General health and purity.' That was all."

"Have you been examined by a physician before?"

She scoffed. "Oh, all the time," she said. "That would be 'never.' "

"I see," said the physician. "Well, you must understand that we must be able to view and examine one's _entire_ body, absent of clothing, to check for abnormalities, blemishes, and anything that would indicate a lack of health. Especially... of Plague. One cannot be expected to find such things underneath layers of clothing, can one? These examinations are required by our laws, especially since the plague. Now remove your garments."

He gestured towards the screen, but she was rooted in place and did not move.

"My Lady, was it not explained to you that you must comply with my instructions?" said the physician.

"...Yes, sir."

"Then do so."

With a last glance towards the door, as if pondering using it to escape, Mara slowly walked to the screen and stood behind it. She moved in slow motion, removing each piece of her clothing as if underwater, wincing as if in pain at their discarding. The last items were her boots, the right one still hiding her throwing dagger. She pulled it out and stared at it, then abruptly forced herself to put it away and drop the boot. Then she told herself to go to the examination room, but could not obey.

"My Lady?" said the physician. "Are you ready?"

"Uh..." she said, wrapping her arms around herself and squeezing her legs together tightly. "I think so."

Before she could muster the fortitude and courage to tiptoe over, the tri-fold screen was suddenly collapsed together with a _clackety-clack_. She kept her head up, but bent her body forward to hide as much as possible.

The assistant put away the screen while the physician gestured to the middle of the room, which had the most light. "You need to stand up straight and tall," he said, "And come this way. Come..."

Mara stood up a little more, and walked over as best as one could with thighs pressed together. The physician reached out to move her into position, and she drew away.

"Just tell me where to stand," she said, "And I will do that."

"The more you cooperate, the sooner this will end," said the physician. "Now stand up straight, and hold your arms out, like this." He demonstrated a "T" position for her. She shook her head vigorously.

"This is the last time I will ask," he said, "The King himself has ordered this. We are both beholden to the law. Stand up straight and hold out your arms!"

Mara winced at an imaginary pain, and slowly forced herself to stand at full height and hold her arms out all the way.

"Roger, take my notes," said Sir William. Roger the assistant brought over a pen, ink and parchment. "Patient is the Lady Mara." Roger wrote a bit on top and then waited for Sir William's instructions. "Your full name?"

"Uh..." she said, trembling, "I have no other name." The trembling concerned him.

"Are you cold, My Lady?" he said, beginning his examination at her fingers and working his way along her arm.

"No," she said quickly.

"Left fingers, hand, forearm," dictated the physician, "No obvious defects."

That was not as comforting to Mara as Sir William might have thought. She took in a breath as he reached her upper arm and wrapped his hands around it, moving them forward, then back. He stopped and examined a few spots, "Hm"ing at each one. Mara looked over.

"Eyes forward," said Sir William to her without looking up from whatever so fascinated him. She looked forward, but struggled against glancing over from time to time. Then Sir William left her side and went to Roger, where he took up the pen and ink and began writing his own notes. During this time she felt Roger's gaze on her, and again wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She was resolved now to bear this out, caring no longer what her health was, as long as it meant finishing and leaving more quickly.

When Sir William resumed his rubbing and prodding, this time on her back, with more "hm's" than before, she stood still, unflinching even when his cool hands slid down her spine, but always kept on eye on the assistant. He pretended to pay more attention to Sir William's notes than to her.

Sir William's examination moved on to her front, where he peered deeply into her eyes, felt along her ears, and checked her tongue and teeth. Flinching when he poked her armpits could not be helped, for this was an extremely ticklish spot, as were the sides of her ribs. But she grit her teeth and held her breath.

Sir William then returned to his papers and wrote more items in silence, then nodded and gestured to Roger, who gathered the paper and ink and moved them from the table.

Mara spoke quietly, tonelessly. "Am I finished?"

"What was that?" said Sir William.

"My clothes," she said. "May I be clothed again?"

"I'm afraid not yet," he said. Roger was either putting equipment away or making more preparations; she could not tell. "There is one more examination to perform," said Sir William. "You will need to be lying down for this. Come." He gestured to a table of wood and metal that she could tell was going to be cold. There appeared to be leather straps in different places, which did not fill her with confidence. With another look towards the door and a moment to take a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around herself and went to the table.

Sir William offered a hand to assist her, which she did not accept. She winced at the coldness of the table. Suddenly Roger was at the left side of the table, handling straps that were closest to her left arm. Sir William picked up the straps closest to her right arm.

"Lady Mara, this examination requires that you be as still as possible," said Sir William. "We have found that restraints make this easier for us all."

Mara sat up, folding her arms. "No more," she said. "What _is_ this examination?? Why will no one explain things to me?? Restraints? Why? Is this something painful?"

"Lady Mara, calm yourself-"

"I ask only for an explanation!"

"And you have had it!" said Sir William. "The first examination for your general health - especially any signs of plague - and this examination, to determine your purity."

"I swear to you, Sir William," she said, "No man has ever touched me. Why will no one accept my word?"

"It is the law that you be examined," he said. "I am not allowed to accept your word only. I shall not lie to my King."

"Then tell me what you're going to do," she said, her eyes moistening. She fought to keep her voice strong and clear. "Please," she whispered.

Sir William sighed. "Very well," he said. "We must confirm that your maidenhead is intact." He held up his hand. "As you can see, my fingers are thick and may cause discomfort. But my assistant's fingers-" Roger held up his hand - "are longer and more slender. Therefore, he will perform the examination."

"I--" she said, glancing at Roger, whom she would swear was fighting against a smile, "I still don't know what you're going to do," she finished quietly.

"He, uh--" said Sir William, "He needs to insert them into your womanly orifice, and confirm that your maidenhead is still there."

"My... orifice?"

He sighed. "Where you bleed from periodically. You do bleed, do you not?"

"...Yes," she said quietly, holding herself more tightly. "Sir William, please: I beg you not to do this. I swear on... on my mother's soul, I have not been with a man. Please tell them that."

"That may be so," he said, his features softening, but only for the briefest of moments, "But the law is the law. It is not mine to break, nor yours. His Royal Highness the Prince - I'm told that it is your intention to marry him, is it not?"

"Yes," she said. "He asked me, though. _He_ asked _me_."

"Take some small comfort in this, then: there would be no examination if they did not take your intention seriously."

"...What?"

"That His Majesty the King ordered this examination means that they are giving serious thought to your worthiness as the Prince's intended. And you do wish to be worthy of marrying him, do you not?"

"Yes," she said quietly, then straightened up. "Yes, I do," she added with more strength.

"Then lie back down," said Sir William, "And let us finish this examination."

Mara took a few seconds to debate with herself, but it was a full, raging debate. Endure the humiliation here and now, or forfeit her (possible) marriage to Kelvin. Killing Sir William and Roger and escaping also flashed into her mind, but she had reached the point now in her life where she could (more) easily dismiss such a temptation. The final result was that she did not actually come to a decision, but simply let her mind shut down.

She laid back down slowly and stared up at the ceiling while Sir William and Roger went about their business of fastening the straps. Her arms were held down at the wrists. There was also a strap for her waist, and ultimately, her feet were placed in stirrups but then held in place with more straps around the ankles. Then suddenly Roger grabbed a rope and pulled, lifting her legs high and spreading them. Mara winced and closed her eyes, then let them slowly open again. Keeping her gaze on the ceiling helped her to tolerate what was to come.

Sir William stood beside her while directing Roger through his preparations. She heard water splashing and assumed that he was washing up. At least there was that preparation. If only he had clipped or filed down the fingernails she had noticed earlier. Perhaps that was part of his preparation.

An uncomfortably long silence preceded the sudden cold that touched her "womanly orifice." Mara grunted and flinched, which caused its own pain on her feet because of the restraints. Sir William placed what he thought was a comforting, calming hand on her belly, but only glanced her way before continuing to watch Roger. Roger hesitated.

"Sir William?" he said.

"Cold..." said Mara through clenched teeth.

"From the washing, My Lady," said Sir William. You'll get used to it. Continue, Roger."

Roger continued. Roughly. Clumsily. Mara's legs tried to slam together on reflex and were again chafed against the leather. None of the restraints were tight, exactly, but were firm enough to hurt if fought against. Sir William was speaking to her all the while, using possibly calming tones, but she heard none of his words and was not going to be _calm_ , either way. As still as possible, yes, for the sole purpose of this "test" being completed as soon as possible. But never _calm_.

Roger's fingers were not far into her womanly orifice and were being moved in a slow circular motion. She did not know what this "maidenhead" thing was supposed to be, but if he did not find it soon, she would find a way to escape the restraints and find it herself.

Sir William had by now moved his hand to rest on her shoulder, his gaze still on Roger, leaving Mara free to ponder the possibility of biting the doctor's arm, when Roger suddenly withdrew his fingers and nodded. Sir William nodded back.

"Thank you, Roger," he said, taking hold of one of her arm restraints. "Please wash again and then help me undo the straps." Roger bowed his head slightly and began turning around. Mara caught a glimpse of him smelling his fingers before turning away completely. Meanwhile, Sir William was releasing her left arm from its restraint.

"The examination is complete, My Lady," he said calmly. As soon as her hand was free, she attempted to undo the other strap herself. "No need for that," he said. "We'll take care of that."

"I'm in a hurry, if you don't mind," she said. "And why were you nodding? Is that good or bad?"

"Good," he said, gently pulling her arm back so he could work on the middle strap. Roger returned and fiddled with the rope that had been used to pull up her legs. But whether from the slipperiness of the water, his own clumsiness, or something else, the rope slid from his hands, and her legs dropped to the table with a loud and painful thump.

"Roger!" said Sir William. Roger bent over in shame and contriteness, calling out apologies to his master while grabbing at Mara's legs, but for what purpose, she neither knew nor cared. She kicked at one of his hands, earning the doctor's stern attention on her this time.

"Lady Mara!" he said. "He did not mean to let go! He's trying to help!"

She stopped kicking and glared at the doctor. "Thank you for your concern, Sir William," she said. "My legs should be fine." She crossed her arms tightly around herself and sat up. " _Now_ may I be dressed again?"

Sir William glared back, then sighed and turned away. "Yes, My Lady," he said. "Your examinations are over."

Mara pushed past Roger and set up the tri-folding screens herself. As she threw her clothing on as quickly as possible, Sir William smoothed out his own garments and accoutrements before exiting the room.

The Royal Family was still waiting in the foyer, none with such anxiety as the Prince appeared to possess. Two handmaidens had joined the Family since the Lady Mara had been brought to him. Sir William made his bows to the Family.

"What news?" said the King.

"Your Majesties. Your Highness. My full report is forthcoming, but I know that your main concern is towards her general health and her purity," said Sir William. The King nodded. "In both cases, she has _passed_ her examinations. She shows no signs of Plague or other obvious illnesses, and does appear to be untouched by man."

The Prince audibly sighed in relief and tried to share a smile with his parents, but it was not shared.

"However," Sir William continued, "There is a matter that should be brought to your attentions. While I found no signs of illness on her person, she does have a great deal many... blemishes."

"Sorry?" said the Prince.

"Scars, to be precise," said Sir William. "Your Majesties, I know not what sort of life she led before, but she appears to have been the recipient of many wounds. Mostly on her torso and upper arms, and some on her legs. If I saw the same wounds on a soldier, I would say that they were from sword and dagger cuts in battle, but that cannot have been the case for her?"

The Prince glanced about, but said nothing.

Sir William continued, "And there were at least two scars that appeared to have been the result of burns. On her back, specifically. Your Majesties - Your Highness - if she is indeed being considered as a bride, I bring these to your attention in case it will affect your decision."

"It might," said the King. "Is she dressed yet? I'll see-"

"No," said the Prince. The King looked at him quizzically. "Thank you, Sir William, for bringing that to our attention. Our decision is not affected."

"You've seen these scars?" said the King.

"No, Father. She always wore enough clothing to cover them. I'll see them on our wedding night, though."

"Kelvin-"

Behind them the door opened again, and the Lady Mara emerged from the examination room, her clothing put on about as well as could be done unaided, her posture straight, but not regal. The Queen, nearest the door, stepped aside slightly to allow her to enter. Her stance and demeanor reminded the Prince of a wounded animal still trying to present itself as a threat.

"Mara?" he said softly, instinctively reaching out, but the Queen stopped his reach halfway. She shook her head slightly. The Prince opened his mouth as if to argue, then relaxed and pulled back. Mara glanced his way, then returned to looking at nothing. The Queen stepped forward and put a gentle arm around her, leading her through the men, who parted for them in silence, and over to the two handmaidens. Mara recognized one of them.

"Lady Mara," said the Queen, "I've taken the liberty of summoning these two handmaidens to bring you back to your room, and to attend to any of your needs."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she whispered.

The Queen gestured towards one of the girls, a redhead. "You're acquainted with this apprentice, yes? You did speak highly of her."

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Mara, not noticing Heather trying to stifle a big grin of pride. The Queen let go of Mara and nodded to the girls, who parted to let her pass, then followed her in silence, patiently matching her slow pace.

Back in the foyer, the Prince was mildly indignant. "Mother," he said, "You know that I meant to comfort her."

"I know, son," she said. "But this is something I know much about, and understand. She's going to need time alone. You must trust me."

Kelvin folded his arms and sulked. "Very well."

****************

Heather and the other handmaiden, Fiona, followed the Lady Mara to her room. Mara went straight to her effects and rummaged a bit, producing her sword and scabbard. Fiona gasped and took a step back, but Heather stood her ground and stifled a smile. With a sigh Mara slumped into the dressing table's chair, facing the girls and the rest of the room . She kept the sword sheathed and let the tip rest on the ground, spinning the sword idly by the grip. Heather stifled a cough and stepped forward.

"M'lady?" she said. "Is there anything you would have us do? We are at your service."

Fiona seemed to take direction from Heather, and straightened herself up, but kept a wary eye on the Lady's sword. Mara stopped spinning the sword and looked up, but not at the girls.

"I..." she said/sighed. "I can't think of anything right now. I'm sorry."

"There's no need for apologies, m'lady," said Heather gently. "We know this has been a trying day. If you wish us to take our leave, we shall."

"Oh, it's... I don't 'wish' for you to leave," said Mara. "I only... need time alone. But thank you for walking with me."

"Of course, m'lady," said Heather, dipping to her quickly. Fiona followed suit. The girls turned to leave and got most of the way to the door. Fiona was reaching for the door when Mara spoke again.

"Wait," she said quietly. The girls stopped and listened. "Sorry. Just Heather? Is that all right?"

"Of course, m'lady," she said quietly. She and Fiona exchanged nods, and Fiona left the room and shut the door quietly behind herself. "What do you need, m'lady?"

"For you to stop calling me 'm'lady,'" she said. "'Mara,' please. Also..." Her voice trailed off. She resumed spinning the sword idly and looking at nothing. Heather stepped forward, craning to hear in case Mara was whispering. "Ahhh," she said quietly, but not whispering, "I don't really want to _ask_ , because... I don't want you to think I'm... _ordering_ or... that sort of thing..."

Heather opened her mouth to respond, then thought better of it and waited for Mara to work through her words on her own. Mara kept her head down and tightened her lips several times, then forced herself to look up and finally meet Heather's gaze.

"I think, um..." she said, "I think it would be nice... after all... to... have some company. If it's no trouble to you."

"None at all," said Heather. "Mara." She found another chair and set it down beside Mara, but not too close. She sat down and lightly let her hands rest on her lap. Mara stopped spinning the sword, but kept her hand on the grip, and looked Heather's way.

"Thank you," she whispered. Heather only smiled in response.

The two sat like this for several minutes, in silence, the only sounds in the room coming from their breathing and the spinning of the sword.

"Mara?" said Heather.

"Hm?"

"Would you like if I braided your hair? Or brushed it? Or...? I find it quite relaxing - even soothing."

"I don't want to be any trouble."

"Nonsense! Er- that is - I would be happy to. It's something that I enjoy doing."

"If it will relax and soothe you, then fine. As you wish."

"I meant it to be relaxing for _you_ , my L--- Mara."

"I know what you meant," said Mara. She straightened up a little, then gathered her hair behind her. Heather made a quick giggle and then searched for a brush. Fortunately the dressing table was properly equipped, and soon enough she was brushing and weaving the honey-blond strands into an elaborate tapestry. For her part Mara was apathetic, but it did give her something else to think about than the events of the day.


	14. Peek Into a Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen tells a story. Mara comes to a decision.

\-------------------

An hour earlier Heather had created a minor masterpiece of braidery with Mara's hair, humming all the while, before taking leave of her mistress. As soon as the sprightly girl had left, Mara returned to her brooding and spinning of her sword. The sound of the leather scabbard's tip on the floor changed suddenly, becoming harder and sharper. She examined the tip and sighed. The tip had finally worn enough for the blade to start slipping through. More of her stupidity in action, damaging her most precious possession.

She had just set the sword aside, when there was a knock at the door. She thought of calling out, but decided to stand up for once and get the door herself. Mara plodded over and opened it just enough to peek out. The Queen met her gaze. Mara quickly opened the door all the way and dipped to her.

"Lady Mara," said the Queen. She had come alone, which was not her custom.

"Your Majesty," said Mara, in a flat tone. She was unable to manage more than that for the moment.

"Will you walk with me?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Mara, and took a step forward.

The Queen held up her hand quickly. "It was a question. Not a command."

Mara was uncertain if there was a difference, but finally she nodded. "I will still walk with you," she said. "Your Majesty."

"Good," said the Queen. "I hope you like the garden."

*******

The two walked to the royal garden in silence, the Queen occasionally pausing to receive her subjects' greetings and salutations, but discouraging anyone from lingering for conversation. When they reached the entrance to the garden, word was sent within that the Queen wanted the place to herself and her companion. The Queen led the way to the center, where there was the ornately carved wooden and metal bench that Mara had seen on her first tour of the castle grounds. The Queen seated herself, then patted the spot beside her.

"Please," she said. "Join me for a sit."

Mara complied silently. She stared at a spot ahead of her while the Queen breathed in deeply, letting it out slowly with a loud sigh.

"It is _almost_ my favorite time of the year in here," she said. " _Almost_ all of the flowers are in bloom. _Almost_ all of the birds have returned. But the sights, sounds and smells even now are still beyond reproach, don't you think?"

"Yes," said Mara, still using her flat tone. "I'm glad that her Majesty is so pleased."

The Queen chuckled softly, then was silent. Mara stayed as still as she could. Perhaps the Queen expected the wonders of the garden to relax and soothe her, too. Or was she supposed to be speaking? Or continue waiting to be spoken to first?

"I had the same examination myself," said the Queen, "When I became betrothed to King Silas. Well, Prince Silas, then. But unlike you, I did _not_ pass the test."

Mara turned slightly towards her, but did not otherwise respond.

"This was quite unfortunate," said the Queen, "Because, you see, I actually _was_ a virgin. And yet the 'test' told the then-Royal Physician otherwise. Now, to this day I could not say for certain if it was a lie on his part, or if the test is simply inaccurate. All I know is that a great deal of money and land exchanged hands, and tongues were stilled, until our marriage was approved."

This time Mara did try to respond, but found that she had no words.

"You realize that the penalty for you would be death, if you repeat any of this," said the Queen. "Don't you?"

"Wh--? Then why--?"

"After Silas and I were married, I begged him and his father, the King, to rescind that abominable law for a 'purity test,' when it was clearly unreliable. But they wouldn't have it. I cannot help but wonder if he would have put Flora to that same test. But I did manage to convince them to remove that man that they called the Royal Physician. It wasn't enough that he was corrupt. He also took an unseemly pleasure in making his examinations... uncomfortable for me. Say or think what you will about Sir William, child, but he is dedicated to his profession, and is concerned for our comfort as well as our health."

"If you say so, Your Majesty," said Mara. Another silence followed.

"And you mustn't be angry with the Prince," she said. "He also tried to dissuade the King from ordering the test, but ultimately had to stand aside for the law."

"Is this law something that the King can overturn?" said Mara. "Or remove? Or something?"

"Yes," said the Queen. "But he believes in it. A woman entering her first marriage in the Royal Family must be untouched by other men. And this test is currently the only way to determine this."

"But it is inaccurate."

"Or I was simply the victim of a corrupt, lying dog," said the Queen. "The truth is long buried."

"The man must be untouched by other women, too, correct?"

"There is no such law about that. However, the Prince has elected to keep his own purity, for his lady's sake, whoever she might be."

"He told me this," said Mara. "Yet you say this is not required of him."

"No," said the Queen. "Lady Mara, I don't need to tell you that this is Men's world, and they are forever trying to keep it that way. We can make our inroads, but ours is a life of constant insults, indignities, and humiliations. It is how we comport ourselves in the face of it that shows our character. And I must say, right now I am impressed by yours."

"I am... pleased by that, Your Majesty," said Mara. "But I don't feel very impressive at the moment. I can barely move or speak."

"On the contrary," said the Queen. "You see, after my own 'examination,' I refused to eat, drink, or speak to anyone for two days. The only reason it was two days, and not longer, is that my father had the words beaten from me. The food and drink forced into me."

"Your father had you--? But you're a _Queen_."

"Back then, I was a Duchess," said the Queen. "A high enough rank, to be sure. But Father's reasoning was that Silas and his father were due to visit at any moment, and I needed to snap out of my despair and behave properly. Behave like a future member of royalty. It was a hard lesson, but I learned it well."

She paused as if waiting for Mara to respond. When she did not, the Queen continued. "Sir William tells us that you have many scars. The Prince did not seem to know of them until then. Is there anything you wish to divulge? And, Lady Mara, as I must trust you with what I have divulged, so you can trust me."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she said, and fell silent in thought for a moment. "You say that your father beat you to end your silence. Mine…" Her words choked on her. She caught herself beginning to wring her hands, and forced them to be still. "Mine used _any_ reason to. Often. Most of the time I didn’t know what I’d done to anger him. Sir William saw the results, and others that I received from… Your Majesty, the Prince knows this, but I wonder if you know what my profession was before we met? I was a mer-- a soldier."

"Soldier?" said the Queen. "For Gildern? I thought you were a scullery maid."

"A--? No, Your Majesty," said Mara, hiding her irritation. "I worked at the inn because I had no other choice during peacetime but to find other work. But I was not a soldier for Gildern. I was a solider for anyone who would pay. _That_ kind of soldier. The Prince knows this."

"I see," said the Queen. "And I offer condolences to you for the harsh treatment you received from your father."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," said Mara. "That is a comfort to me. Er, I know you said I could confide in you, and I am grateful for that, but I'd understand if you told the King."

"Lady Mara!" the Queen snapped, startling her. "Do not impugn me. I have offered you confidence, and I shall keep it."

"I-I-I'm sorry, Your Majesty," said Mara. "I didn't mean to suggest that you _would_ , I only-- i-if it's something that you _had_ to tell the King-"

"Lady Mara-"

"-Though I hope that you would not, I only meant to-"

"Lady Mara-"

"-Assure you that I-I would not place any blame on you, because your duty is to him, not-"

" _Mara_!"

She was startled into silence. She blinked quickly a few times, then shifted in her seat and straightened up, glancing at the Queen nervously all the while. The Queen sighed, smiled slightly, then patted her thigh.

"Mara," she said softly. "You might wish to know that, in spite of this news, the Prince's resolve to marry you has not waned."

"It hasn't?" she whispered.

"No," said the Queen. "Once his mind is set on something, it is not changed. Just like his father."

Mara pondered this a moment. Then: "Your Majesty," she said, "Would you mind if I took my leave of you now?"

"Not at all, child," said the Queen.

Mara stood, then turned to give a farewell curtsey. "I must thank you for this talk. It was very kind of you to grant me your attentions. And I thought you should know that my resolve to marry _him_ could not be any stronger." She dipped once more and turned to leave.

"Mara," said the Queen. She stopped, but did not turn all the way.

"Your Majesty?"

"Your hair is quite lovely. My compliments to whomever arranged it."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I will tell Heather, if I see her again."

***************

Mara had learned the Prince's whereabouts from a passing servant. On the way to his chambers, she tried to think of various arguments and counter-arguments for the question she needed to ask him. No, not question: request. A demand? Not yet. She decided to leave it as a request and see where that got her. She did not have much experience at doing battle with words, and so wondered just how strong any of her arguments and counter-arguments would be, but had to start with something.

She reached the Prince's chamber door, and knocked quietly. _Well, that won't impress him_ , she thought, and began to knock harder, when the door was opened by a valet.

"Yes?" he said. "What business do you have here, miss?"

Mara cocked an eyebrow. She was almost starting to expect that "Lady" business by now, or at the very least to be recognized. But then, he seemed new to her, too. "I wish to speak with the Prince," she said, straightening up, her voice getting stronger as she continued. "Is he available?"

"Provide me with your name, and-"

"LET HER IN!" the Prince called from within. Before the valet could react further, Kelvin was already behind him, opening the door all the way. He shooed the valet aside and grabbed one of Mara's hands, all but yanking her inside. The valet recovered quickly, dusting off his sleeves and adjusting his clothing. The Prince dismissed him with a quick motion of the head. The valet bowed crisply and left the room, shutting the door behind himself.

The Prince still had her hand in a tight grip and led her to the center of the room. Then he stopped and held onto her upper arms, squeezing them gently and rubbing them up and down. He wore a smile of unabashed joy that was hard for her not to match. But she had serious business with him and needed to practice restraint.

"I'm so glad you came, Darling," he said. "I've been worried all day. Are you...? How do you feel?"

Mara nodded slowly. "I'll be fine. I want to-"

"I just want you to know, that I argued against that test," he said. "But Father was unmoved."

"Yes, I know. Your mother told me."

"Oh, you did speak with her? Good. Did she explain things to you?"

"Yes. Yes, she explained quite a bit. Kelvin-"

"I hope you can forgive me for what happened," he said. "Will you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive," she said, to the Prince's relief. "But isn't it the King who needs my forgiveness? He's the one whose mind nobody could change."

For once the Prince was dumbfounded. His smile dropped immediately. Mara began to worry that she might have stepped on unwelcome political, or familial, ground. After all, she had reacted strongly to Kelvin's criticisms of her own father, no matter how true they were. But his features softened, and his smile crept back.

"You're right about that," he said. "But bear in mind that he will never ask for it."

"I thought as much," she said. "Kelvin, I'm not here to talk about that test. Er, actually, I _am_ , but not just yet. Kelvin: I--" She straightened herself up again. "The Queen, she told me that Sir William... He said that I have scars, and... Kelvin, this is something I should have told you. Should have _shown_ you, but I... In fact, I'll do that now. I'll show you." She began pulling at her sleeve to reveal more of her arm. Kelvin laid his hand there to stop her.

"A question for you first," he said. "Did most of them come from your father?"

She tried to hide the surprise in her expression, but failed. She took in a deep breath, fidgeted, struggled for the words. "Er, yes," she said quietly. Her nervous smile and laugh were not entirely out of place. The same for the oddly perky tone to her voice. "But you know, there were fewer, the older I got. The more that I learned. About defending myself. But then, the ones that were for punishment-"

"Mara," he said, "As I told my parents, I'll see them on our wedding night."

For a moment, she had no reply. More moments passed, and she still had no words, but placed a hand on his cheek and leaned in for a kiss. She still struggled for words after parting; Kelvin was in no hurry to speak again, either. But she was here, now, for another important reason, and was allowing in distractions.

"Kelvin, I--" she said, "I wish I could speak well enough to explain how much your words mean to me. But this should help. This may seem strange to you, but I have a question for you. A request."

"Anything," he said.

"I hope so," she said. "You see, my request is, er-" She cleared her throat. "I want to learn how to read."

She was unable to interpret the Prince's expression. He may have been surprised or taken aback, but she couldn't tell. Also, she realized that she was giving him too much time to argue against it, so she sorted through her various counter-arguments to back up her request: It would make her more useful to him as an adviser. Ruling people were supposed to be educated. Even the _servants_ of the ruling people could read.

"Because-"

"Then it shall be done," he said. "Oh, pardon me, did I interrupt you?"

"What?"

"You were speaking, and I interrupted. What were you saying?"

"Er, nothing," she said. "What did _you_ just say?"

"That we'll find a teacher for you for reading," he said. "Oh, and writing, of course. You can't learn one without the other. When would you like to start? And is there anything else you wish to learn?" She could only stare in response.

"Mara?"

"Uh, I-I'm sorry," she said. "I'm trying to work out if you're... mocking me?"

"Mocking you?" he said. "Why would you think that? Your request was in earnest, was it?"

"Er... Yes. Yes, it was," she said. "I wish to learn how to read. I'm tired of being ignorant. I want to study the laws of this land. Its history. But especially the laws."

"And its literature," he offered. "Stories, plays, poems, songs. Oh, music. Would you like to learn an instrument?"

"I-I don't know..."

"What about singing?"

Mara scoffed. " _Especially_ not singing. I sound like a goat being slaughtered. But wait: I came in here prepared to have to convince you about this, because I thought..."

"You thought I would object?" he said.

"Yes," she said, then added quickly, "But clearly you wouldn't! I realize that now. I'm still getting used to being, ah... supported."

"If I can help it," he said, "You'll completely forget that you were ever mocked, or scorned. For anything."

"Doubtful," she said. "That is, I--" She stopped abruptly, and seemed lost in thought. Then she sighed and shrugged. "Forgive me. It's been a long and trying day."

He pulled her into an embrace and held her quietly. After a minute or so, it was she who broke the silence. "You think I should learn an instrument?"

"You must know that I would love to play duets with you," he said. "Whatever you wish to learn, and that we can teach, is yours. Even combat, if it pleases you." She pulled away and regarded him. " _Without_ more scars," he added. "Not that the King and Queen would be pleased that a Princess was handling a sword, but-"

"You know that I've spent most of my life in combat already," she said, failing to hide her indignation.

"I'm only saying that the opportunity would be available to you," he said. "You learned from one man. There's no shame in learning from others. Seamus is not just Captain of the Guard, he is an excellent teacher. Remember that he taught me. I haven't stopped learning; I'm _still_ practicing under him."

"I'll think about it," she said, and sighed again. "Such a long day."

"True," he said. "But does this help?" Kelvin pulled her into a long, deep kiss. As they embraced, Mara felt most of her stress and tension melt away, but not altogether. This was a good thing, for once.

They parted, then closed their eyes and rested in their usual stance of forehead to forehead.

"Kelvin?" she said, their stance unchanged.

"Mm-hm?"

"You will be King someday, yes?"

"Mm-hm. But since it will be upon the death or abdication of my father, not soon, I hope."

"No, of course not soon," she said. "But _someday_ , you'll be King. I want to ask: may a King make, or _unmake_ , any law?"

Now Kelvin broke their embrace, and straightened up. "Within reason. A King can't make a law that the sun will no longer rise."

"Of course I meant within reason," she said. "I have a reasonable request that you unmake the law about the 'purity test.' Remove it. Whatever will keep others from going through it."

"Now, Mara-"

"I know that you think I ask this because of what happened today," she said. "That I'm still just upset and want it to go away. But I've had plenty of time today to think about this, and there is more to it than simply 'not liking it.' More to it than my own indignity and humiliation. If you truly _need_ a woman to be a virgin before marriage, then so be it: demand it. But find some other way to ensure it. Make her swear on a Bible. Swear on the souls of her ancestors. _Something_. But _not that test_. No more."

Again, the Prince's expression was indecipherable to her, but at least she could sense no anger. But he still had no answer.

"Kelvin," she said, "You yourself argued against it, so I'd think you'd be open to removing it."

"I am," he said. "I only..." Then he seemed lost in thought. Again. Mara did not like this, and touched his arm gently.

"If we ever have a daughter," she said quietly, "Would you order _her_ to endure that test?"

"I..."

"Kelvin."

"No," he said. "No, I-- _No_! I should not be hesitating about this. If I cannot convince my father to rescind it, then I will do it myself." He put his hands against her cheeks. "When I am King, consider that law revoked."

"Thank you," she said, and leaned in for another kiss. "And I will hold you to it."


	15. Turnabout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King and Queen have decided.

\---------------------

Mara had lost track of time since her arrival at the castle. She had guessed months, but Kelvin assured her that it had not quite been two fortnights. By this time her meals with the royal family had become, as much as a meal with a _royal family_ could be, routine. By this it meant that she was simply dining with them and having more or less mundane conversations, and not interrogations, tests, questioning, arguments - not about their possible marriage, that is - nor long, uncomfortable pauses. She had, in time, managed to obtain footwear other than her old boots, due to needing custom shoes that took longer to make.

True to his word, Kelvin had arranged for an instructor for her, first to teach her reading and writing. After that would follow any other subjects she wished. For now Mara was requesting law and history, and later, at Kelvin's suggestions, literature, mathematics and science. She still showed no interest in studying music, so he relented on that. Rather than combat instruction with Seamus, she requested instead to learn archery and horsemanship. What she absolutely refused to do, though, was ride sidesaddle, which her instructor insisted was the only way for "Ladies" to ride. At first the Prince had tacitly agreed with that, but finally stepped up to order her riding instructions to be identical to a man's. This required that the seamstresses make special riding clothes for her that allowed her to spread her legs enough to sit on the horse properly.

********************

Mara was at her dressing table, studying these new things called "letters," and the Prince was outside, walking the grounds with Seamus, when they were both summoned to the King and Queen. Coincidentally, they arrived at the door to the consultation room simultaneously.

"Do you know what they want?" she asked him quietly.

"I wish I did," he said, and pushed open the door.

Inside, the King and Queen waited for them. They were both standing, so Kelvin and Mara took that as their cue to do the same. They stood side by side and waited to be addressed. The King seemed to be taking his time, though, looking at them alternately before clearing his throat.

"We have made our decision about your marriage," he said. Both of them became infinitely more alert. Mara took a deep breath and almost forgot to let it out. She let her gaze drift downward.

"Lady Mara," said the King. "Look here." He pointed first to her eyes, then to his.

"Yes, Your Majesty," she said, doing her best to look straight ahead.

"And Kelvin," he said. "You understand that this decision is final. There will be no debates. No arguments. No counterpoints. You will accept our decision. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sire," he said.

"Good." The King looked first to the Queen, then back at them. "The marriage between you, Prince Kelvin of Gildern, and you, the commoner known as 'Lady' Mara of Breech... will _not_ have our blessing."

Her world was gone - washed away with a single word: _not_. The Prince had promised - insisted - that it would happen come hell or high water, but it was true: without the backing of the King and Queen, their life together would _be_ hell.

"And therefore..." said the King. Mara braced herself for any number of punishments. Exile. Imprisonment. Execution.

"...Effective immediately, she will be granted the title of Countess, and granted five acres of land, two miles due west of the castle grounds and known as Riverbend-" 

Mara tried to keep her gaze on the King, but stole a glance over at Kelvin, who was doing his best to appear reserved. Princely, even.

"-And will have all the rights and privileges accorded to her title and station. And it is _that_ marriage - between you, Prince Kelvin of Gildern, and you, _Countess_ Mara of Riverbend - that has our blessing."

At least Kelvin had lost his uncertainty. He let out a loud sigh of relief, joy, delight, perhaps other feelings that she did not know of, and threw his arms around his father, kissed his hands, then embraced his mother and kissed her on each cheek. As he continued his overtures of joy to them, Mara stood still. _What had just happened?_ Her gaze was at first focused on nothing, before drifting slowly to Kelvin and watching him speak excitedly at his mother. His words, though, were a jumble to her.

Finally some awareness of her surroundings returned to her. She felt someone watching her. It was the King himself. For the first time since their introduction, he was smiling at her. Not a smirk or a half-grin or a sign of sarcasm, but a warm, welcoming smile. He held out his hands to her, palms up, then beckoned her forward.

She took hesitant steps forward, then put her hands on his when they were close enough. He squeezed them gently. "Countess," he said. That word gave her a chill. It also brought a silence to the room, save for his voice. "I know that we have put you through much. Many questions, many examinations, many tests. We had to, to determine if you were worthy of our son and of our kingdom. Please forgive the misdirection in the beginning; it was really to give the Prince a bit of a jape, not you. But we do now, truly, wish to welcome you to the family. Welcome. Welcome, daughter."

He pulled her slowly into an embrace and patted her back once. He realized that she was shivering. He was about to let go and ask if she was cold, but she suddenly shuddered, gripped him tightly and buried her face into his shoulder, her eyes closed. Kelvin, who had been watching, waited a few moments, then put a hand on her shoulder and gently pulled her away. She then became embarrassed by her impropriety and apologized to the King. He insisted that there was no need.

Once again they stood side by side to face the King and Queen. Kelvin smiled and bowed his head. "Thank you so much," he said. "God bless you both. This means everything to us."

The Queen stepped forward and held Mara's hands. She seemed to be considering her words, and opened her mouth to speak, then smiled and nodded slowly. "Welcome, child," she said finally, and withdrew.

"This is going to mean everything to the kingdom," said the King, with a hint of warning. "You may have _our_ blessing, but you won't have it from others."

"Father, no matter who I picked, some family would be offended," said Kelvin. "We've been through this."

"Yes, but at least the other families all know each other," said the King. "She'll have come from nowhere, from their perspective."

"Well, technically, she has," said Kelvin. "B-b-but can this wait? Keep this a joyous occasion, a joyous day? Let us have our celebration!"

"Yes, yes," said the King, waving them away. "Go on, enjoy yourselves."

********

Kelvin took Mara's hand and almost yanked her from the room, knocking the doors open as they went. He was moving quickly and taking long strides, which gave Mara trouble until she managed to pull up on her dress to keep her feet from tripping.

"Kelvin," she said, "Where are we going in such a hurry?"

"I want it to be a surprise," he said, flashing a sly grin.

"But can it _not_ be in a hurry?" she said, tugging at his hand. "You know that this clothing isn't meant for speed."

He finally slowed down enough to allow her to walk at a more natural pace, and released her hand. "Do forgive me," he said. "I was overcome with excitement. You can keep up with me now, yes?"

"I _was_ keeping up," she maintained. "I'm only curious about the haste. But please stop a moment."

He agreed, and with only minor reluctance. They stopped, then walked together to a shaded spot.

"My excitement got the better of me," he said. "Caught your breath now?"

"I told you, I was keeping up," she said. "But these things catch under the feet easily. I really wanted to stop because... Did you hear him, Kelvin? He called me 'daughter.' Did you hear him say that?"

He smiled. "I did," he said. "And 'Countess.' You heard _that_ , yes?"

"I did. And I know, it's like calling me 'Lady' so I can fit in-"

"No, no," he said. "Not so, Darling. The title is yours. It's not simply a name. As of this moment, _you are a Countess_."

He took her resulting silence as a sign that she was overwhelmed by this first step into nobility. Her eyes grew moist without producing tears.

"It's all amazing to me," she said, "A title from thin air? But 'Daughter.' If it be a title, that's the one that I..."

She was unable to continue. A tear began its escape down her cheek. Kelvin produced a handkerchief and dabbed it away. "I know, Darling." He offered an arm to her, which she accepted. "Ready for another surprise?"

"Ohhhhh," she said as a long sigh, then smiled. "I'm starting to like them."

"When Solomon gave you a tour of the grounds," he said, "Were you taken to that tower there?" He indicated a tower separate from the main wall. There were several guards at its base.

"We saw it, but didn't go in," she said. "He didn't say what was in it, either."

"That's good," said Kelvin. "You weren't allowed in at the time." He smiled again. "But you are now."

She had no answer for him. In a minute or so they arrived at the base. The guards knew the Prince but were still questioning of the woman he had with him. "My good men," said the Prince, "This is the Countess Mara of Riverbend. My intended."

The guards first acknowledged the Prince, and then her as they bowed their heads and overlapped their greetings. Mara blushed. This was the first time he'd been allowed to introduce her as his betrothed, and it was to a group of guards. She quietly appreciated that it hadn't been a big fanfare made to the well-born.

"Men, are there objections to me and my fiancee entering the tower?"

They had none. Each of them produced their own key, and took turns unlocking different locks on the iron door. The last guard pulled it open for them. Kelvin entered first, offering a hand to Mara to guide her up the winding staircase, but she insisted on ascending it unassisted.

Finally they reached the top, where a middle-aged man and a younger man sat at separate tables - worktables, from the looks of them. Taking up one half of the floor, opposite where the staircase ended, was a very large, solid, metal door with multiple locks, similar to the door at the base of the tower.

Kelvin made the introductions between her and the Royal Jeweller Roderick and his master craftsman son, Jason. She wondered if Kelvin was going to announce her as his intended to everyone they met. He was that sort of man. For a moment – just a moment – she grew a little bit giddy that the Prince of the Land was this excited to be betrothed to _her_ , the most common of commoners.

"My good men," said Kelvin. "Perhaps you've guessed why we're here? Unless this is a poor time to see Elisabeta's ruby?"

"Not at all," said Roderick, gesturing to Jason, who dug around in his worktable's drawers before producing two keys. Roderick retrieved two of his own keys from his worktable, and together they unlocked the large door and pulled it open.

It was clear to Mara now why this tower had been excluded from her first tour. They don't show the Crown Jewels to just anyone. Everywhere she looked were crowns, tiaras, scepters, necklaces, rings, broaches, bracelets... if a person wore a type of jewelry, it was represented here. Each item had been carefully placed on its own stand or pedestal. Nothing had been thrown in haphazardly.

While she was busy being dazzled by the gold, silver and sparkling gems, Roderick was handing the Prince two sets of thin gloves. The Prince pulled his on and handed the other set to Mara, who finally noticed it after he poked her arm. She pulled on the gloves while still staring at the contents of the vault. The Prince looked about, then found a small, hinged box. After catching her attention, he opened it.

Her eyes went wide, but she made no sound. Inside was a ring of gold, on top of which was an oval ruby larger than her thumbnail. Surrounding the ruby were tiny diamonds inset into the gold and continuing halfway down the band. The band itself appeared to have some filigree sculpted into it, as well.

"What do you think?" he asked softly. Mara looked at him, then the ring, and back to him.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean, do you like it?"

"Do I-?" she said, then stared at it some more. "What a question. It's-- It's beyond beautiful. Just about everything here is." Her attention wandered again as another masterpiece caught her eye.

Kelvin directed her back his way, then carefully removed the ring and turned it this way and that. "This belonged to Queen Elisabeta of Umbridge. She was my mother's aunt, and Mother inherited it upon her death. Then she gave it to me for my 17th birthday."

"She... gave you a _woman's_ ring," said Mara.

"Well, not for _me_ , of course," said Kelvin. "The intention being to give it to my future wife on our wedding day."

"Oh," said Mara, nodding. Then both her eyes and mouth went wide again. **" _Oh!!"_**

"That's why I asked if you like it."

"But-- But-- Uhhh... But this--" she said, suddenly unable to sputter out even a short sentence. "Big and-- Whahh--- But I'm just-- I-I'm not--"

"Darling," said Kelvin, so softly as almost whispering, "It's all right. Slow down. Take deep breaths."

"Is everything all right, Your Highness?" Roderick asked from his worktable.

"Thank you, Master Roderick," said the Prince. "We're fine. We'll be over presently." He returned his attention to Mara, who was working on slowing her breathing, as advised. Eventually she got it under control, but covered her face with her hands, then let them slowly drop before resting on her chin.

She whispered, "Kelvin: I-I can't do it. I can't wear something this-- this--"

"Fancy?" he offered. She nodded.

"I-I-I'm afraid that I'll... that I'll break it," she said. "Or worse: lose it! Then I lose my _head_ , yes?"

"You won't lose it," he said, "Because you'd never be taking it off. And I'm not certain what you plan to do that would _break_ it. Here: let me have your hand."

"W-well I wouldn't be wearing it _now_ , would I?" she said, keeping her hand from him. "We're not married yet."

"No, but we need to check the fit," he said, taking her left hand, anyway, and peeling off the glove. After he was done, and held her hand in his own, he paused, then smiled to himself. "I guess this will be practice for me, too," he said, and slipped the ring onto her third finger. It went on and came off too easily.

"Oh," said Mara, almost in relief. "See, it's too big. It would slip off too easily. I won't be able to wear it."

Kelvin did not respond to her, but removed it, put it back into the box, then took her hand and guided her over to Roderick's worktable. He set the box on the table.

"It's too large, my good man," said the Prince.

"Ah, a resizing, then," said Roderick, and he fished through some drawers before pulling out a small pouch. "Not surprising," he added, and started pulling out plain, steel rings from the pouch and setting them carefully on the table. "I could tell by her long, slender fingers that the ruby wouldn't fit." He looked up at Mara and held out his hand. "Countess," he said, "Would you mind showing me your left hand?"

She did, and he peered at it a second, then picked up different steel rings before finding one that seemed to satisfy him. He slipped it on her third finger, and it fit perfectly. Roderick smiled. "One try," he said. "I _am_ good."

"We could make _this_ my wedding ring," she said, showing the band to Kelvin.

"Ha ha," he said sarcastically, removing it for her and handing it back to Roderick. "These are only for sizing."

Roderick took Elisabeta's ring and studied it briefly. "I can have this ready as soon as you need it, Sire."

"Well, there's the question," said the Prince. "A date hasn't been set yet, so take your time to do it right. By the way, will you size her other hand?"

Mara looked at him. "Why?" she said. "How many weddings are we going to have?"

"We'll just have one, for now," said The Prince, and winked. "And you never know. You're going to be a Princess. What's a member of royalty without jewels?"

"...A person without jewels?" she offered. The Prince chuckled, then left her side as she submitted to Roderick sizing her right hand's fingers. He seemed to know their sizes just by looking at them, but still verified, and called out numbers to Jason, who dutifully recorded the information.

When she finished with them, she turned around to see Kelvin standing before her, his hands still gloved, holding a gold tiara that, compared to most of the other headdresses in storage, had a simple design.

"This is a tiara," said Kelvin. She cocked her head and gave him a Look. "And I see that you know that. It belonged to Flora." Her expression softened immediately. "Now, you could always have your own made, because everyone has their own style or preference for these--"

"When would I be wearing it?" Mara asked.

"As often as you wish," said Kelvin. "But it's only expected for special occasions. Special banquets, uh, parties and other soirees, uh-"

"That's fine," she said. An awkward silence followed before Kelvin raised it up slightly to her.

"Would you like to, uh... See over here?"

They walked to a mirror near the storage room. She faced the mirror while he stood behind her and carefully placed the tiara on her head. He made some minor adjustments, then stood beside her and peered into the mirror. He smiled slowly.

He whispered, "Beautiful."

Mara was uncertain what he was referring to: her or the tiara. She decided that it was the tiara. She felt as though she were looking at someone other than herself, and for the briefest of moments, almost curtsied to her own reflection, but came to her senses in time. There was no sound save for the two jewellers at work. Then she reached up to remove it. Kelvin took her hands gently and moved them away.

"Need gloves, remember?"

She apologized while he carefully removed it and placed it back in its proper spot in the storage room. Then he pulled off his own gloves and began shutting the vault door. "Master Roderick, Master Jason," he said. "Unless we're needed for anything else, we'll take our leave of you."

*******

Mara shielded her eyes from the sun as they left the tower. Behind them, the guards busied themselves locking the gate with their separate keys. This time Mara and Kelvin walked in a casual stroll, now that the important business had been tended to. He offered his arm again to her, which she took, but was lost in thought as they meandered.

"After Roderick is done," said Kelvin, "We'll return and see how the ring fits."

"Mm," she said, nodding, then continued with her thoughts.

"Is something troubling you?" he asked.

She laughed and shook her head. She paused in their walk; he obliged. "The furthest thing from 'troubling,' I think." She put a hand onto one of his. "Kelvin," she said quietly, "You... know that I love you. Yes?"

He rolled his eyes. "I do _now_ ," he said, and winked a second later. 

It took her a moment to realize the tease. "I should say it more. I know. B-but I want you to know that it's not because of all this. These fancy things. Fancy clothes, and jewels, and big banquets. Being a Lady or a Countess or... Princess. I don't love His Royal Highness Prince Kelvin, Duke of Moorcliff and heir to the throne of Gildern. I love _Kelvin_. Nothing more. Because... Because you _are_ the same man whose proposal I accepted. That same kind and generous man."

He waited patiently for her to find more words, but she had none. He took up the hand she had placed on his, kissed it, and held it while he whispered. "That's exactly why I love _you_."

They walked on in silence, no particular destination in mind.


	16. Gifting and Re-Gifting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story So Far:  
> \--The King and Queen decided  
> \--The Prince took Mara shopping

\-------------------

Very shortly after the visit to the Crown Jewels, the King and Queen resummoned the Prince and Princess-to-be to their chambers. The King was disappointed in himself for allowing them to leave without having discussed the kingdom's next course of action. It was greatly against his nature to be swept up in emotions. Fortunately there appeared to be no harm done - that they knew of - in informing the tower guards and Royal Jewellers of the betrothal. Within the castle grounds it was already considered to be a poorly-kept secret.

What was not poorly-kept was the true nature of Mara's social ranking. From the start she had been introduced as "Lady," with the implications of nobility behind it. After some discussion, mostly around Mara rather than with her, it was decided that a convoluted story for her would be too challenging for everyone to keep straight. Ultimately her tale was one of truth and stretched truth. She was a Countess, but whose family had no true political relevance. The King and Prince had been unable to decide among all the families' daughters presented to them. The Prince's leave of absence had been to clear his head and meditate on his choices. It was during this time that he had met and fallen in love with the Countess. There was no need to say that he had lived as a pauper and barely survived on meager funds; his absense was known among most, but no one would think that he had slept anywhere but in grand manors and castles during his travels.

That the Prince was actually marrying for love, well... He and his father would need to call upon all their diplomatic skills to assure all allies that nothing had changed their allegiances. They would be honored as before, with or without marital benefits. And as Mara had sworn to the King and Queen that she would do whatever a Princess was supposed to do, and to stand by her husband-to-be, she swore to adhere to the tale.

***************

The Queen and her entourage arrived at Mara's new chambers, which had previously belonged to the Princess Flora, to inform her of a new duty, for which her training was to begin immediately: running the castle. All of it. As she explained it, the King ruled the kingdom, but she ruled his home. All decisions regarding the operations of the castle were hers alone, with one exception: the King's Guards and his own personal attendants. This duty fell to the Prince, as well as the King himself. There had been times when, in the King's absence, the Queen had ruled on his behalf, as had the Prince, but she assured Mara that this was not expected of her. At least, not any time soon.

To Mara's relief, the Queen accepted that she was not yet proficient enough at reading or writing to take notes while the Queen explained each duty pertinent to the castle's area. A servant was appointed the task of writing, and followed the women closely. What Mara did for herself, though, was to silently make a point of remembering the names of everyone they encountered, from masters to apprentices and everyone in between. There were quite a few names to remember, so she worked out different ways to do so, knowing that her system would be tested the next time she walked the grounds with the Queen.

As she was introduced to the various workers and craftspeople, Mara became aware of an odd feeling within herself. Each person who was introduced to her made some effort at royal courtesy, either calling her "My Lady" or "Your Highness" (prematurely, but no one was corrected), and bowing according to their sex. What Mara soon realized was that she did not look forward to being greeted this way by other women... but did for the men. Still, anyone watching her expression or movement at the time would not have been able to tell. Being perfectly stoic when needed was something she'd learned early and well, thanks to her father.

In most cases it was not the Queen's task to simply walk around and tell everyone what to do. She could hardly tell a master blacksmith how to forge, or a master carpenter what kind of joins to use. She could and did, though, investigate any delays in scheduled projects, listen to concerns of all kinds, mediate disagreements, and otherwise work with the Royal and master workers such that they could continue to earn their keep. The areas where the Queen was very much involved were the kitchen, attendant staff, and handmaidens. A castle ran on its stomach, and she wanted no guests to leave with an empty one.

Regarding handmaidens, the Queen informed the Princess-to-be that she was to choose at least one for herself from the "pool" of attendants available. To her puzzlement Mara selected one of the apprentices, Heather. The Queen explained that a woman of high standing, such as herself, should have several attendants with full training. Mara claimed to understand this, and yet gently insisted on her choice. The Queen eventually permitted this for now. As the girl's mistress, Mara would have rein for her decorum and conduct, as long as it did not conflict with the rules of the court.

Mara began her reign with three requests for Heather that conflicted with the rules of the court: stand up straight, look her in the eye, and call her Mara. Heather had done the third before. She had remarked upon this to a senior handmaiden, and had paid for the faux pas. She was eager now to make no other mistakes. Servants were simply not to use familiar names with their betters. And yet now her new mistress was asking her to do everything wrong, up to and including dining with her. Not all meals, but the breakfast that she was to bring each morning at sunup. Unheard of things.

"My Lady, I beg your pardon," she said. "I may have misunderstood you. You weren't asking me to dine _with_ you, of course. You were asking me to...?"

"Dine with me," said Mara. "Sit there, and eat our breakfast together. And it's Mara."

"But My Lady," she said, "That's-- Surely it's not allowed?"

"Isn't it allowed if I ask you?" said Mara. "The Queen told me that you're my assistant and could treat you as I please. And I think it would be pleasing to eat together. Do you think so? That is, if there aren't already people that you do eat with? Are there?"

"No, My Lady," said Heather. "And it's very kind of you to ask this. But you should know that I've eaten already."

"Then next time, _don't_ eat first, and bring two meals," said Mara. "And we've been through this before, Heather; it's Mara."

It took some time for the words to sink in. When they finally did, Heather looked about as if confirming for herself that they were alone. Then she nodded and smiled. "Thank you, My La- Thank you, Mara."

********************

Setting the date of the wedding, making the guest list and planning the engagement banquet were entirely out of Mara's – and Kelvin's - hands. The Queen was at least telling them what to expect, but in such a way that did not invite differing opinion. Mara found it interesting that Kelvin, so quick to argue about almost everything with his father, never spoke up to his mother. In fairness her plans for the engagement celebration and wedding did not seem overly elaborate or bizarre, even to Mara's still-common mind. Perhaps there really was nothing _to_ disagree with. Or perhaps their relationship was just that amenable. There was still so very much for her to discover.

Just over two weeks after the King and Queen had given their blessings to the marriage, Mara was in her new study/parlor/sitting room/library, with borrowed papers and books spread all over the serving table. Learning the alphabet and reading simple words were coming along smoothly and quickly for her. What was troublesome was mastering the pen and ink for writing. She had pages covered with letters, numbers, symbols and words that seemed to have more smeared black blobs on them than anything legible. As a result she had quickly developed the bad habit of reading more than writing. The various papers and books strewn about were perhaps beyond her reading level, but she preferred this challenge. Better to get through history and law more quickly. Especially the law.

She was engrossed enough in trying to slog through the obtuse language known as Legalese, to have missed the first knocks at her door. The next round of knocking was loud enough to startle her. She was still holding one of the books on her way to answering the door.

It was Kelvin, for whom she would always make time. She threw the door open wide for him, then made certain to close it before burying herself in his embrace. Propriety still mattered much more to her than to him. When they parted, he paused to stare into her eyes and compliment her hair's arrangement. She began to praise Heather's skills of braidery, until it became clear to her that he had no interest in the details. Only the results.

Kelvin noticed her book, not to mention the piles of papers at the other end of the room. "I hope I'm not interrupting something important?" he said, offering his arm to her. She smiled and shook her head, then awkardly switched the book to her other hand so she could take his arm. They walked slowly together to a settee and sat down. "It's good that you have such a passion for reading. And learning in general."

"I don't want to be ignorant anymore," she said.

"I'd say that you've made good on your promise not to be 'idle' around here," he said.

She raised an eyebrow. "We both worked at Erick's. I watch people here working so hard, and I can't help wondering if I should help them? Chop food in the kitchen, or scrub a few floors? This is still idle compared to that work."

"It's a different kind of work," he said. "By the way, please don't scrub any floors. Certain people wouldn't react well to our future Princess on hands and knees with a bucket at her side."

"Fear not, I won't embarrass you," she muttered. "Hated scrubbing floors, anyway."

He shrugged. "I wasn't overly fond of the pisspots." She smiled and chuckled. "But I'm not here to reminisce about those merry times. May I?"

He gently took the book she was holding and set it aside. A second later she realized that her place was now lost, but pushed away the frustration in her face and smiled. He leaned over to trade several kisses with her. There went the last of her frustration.

He kept his hand on a pouch on his belt, and cleared his throat. "When we're married, you'll be given Queen Elisabeta's ring. And..." His words faded.

"Yes," she said gently, "I know this."

He smiled nervously. "I know you know," he said, and paused again. His seeming discomfort puzzled and concerned her. "But it's an heirloom," he continued. "Made for Elisabeta, then passed down to us. It didn't begin as _yours_."

"I..." she said, "Is this wrong somehow?"

"It isn't _wrong_ ," he said. "No, no. But it occurred to me that you don't have something like it. Something beautiful like it. Of _your own_. And..." He opened the pouch as discreetly as he could and pulled out a small box, but kept it hidden from her.

"Kelvin," she said, touching his other hand, "Are you--? Do you think this is something that troubles me?" He shook his head. "I am _surrounded_ by beautiful things. I've wanted for nothing since coming here. If you think I'm lacking something, it would be a surprise to _me_."

"Good," he said. "I hope that this _is_ a surprise."

He held out the small box and opened it, then realized it was facing the wrong way and almost dropped it in his haste to turn it around. Inside was a ring, but not Elisabeta's ruby. This one was topped by an oval emerald of at least three carats, and surrounded by eight alternating rubies and diamonds - four of each kind, and each at least one carat. The band was all gold and wide enough all the way around to include carvings on each side, mostly of a floral nature. Kelvin's nervousness caused his hand to tremble; the light coming through the window caught the quivering gems and lit them up like tiny, shimmering torches.

Mara widened her eyes to near-perfect circles and gasped - twice - before unintentionally holding her breath while staring. Kelvin tried to discern her thoughts, but eventually gave up.

"You've given me so much," he said. "You've been through so much, and never asked for anything. If I had the power, I would pull down the moon for you. But I don't. In which case, I hope that this will serve."

She was finally able to tear away her gaze to look at him, and whispered, "Kelvin. I haven't the words. I haven't..."

He smiled. "It's Roderick's work," he said. "I was speechless when I saw it, too. He took my idea and raw materials and made this masterpiece. I wanted the emerald to be the centerpiece, to match the ones in your eyes."

"My eyes?"

"Well, they're green. As emeralds?" His own words made him blush. "I'm not speaking very well today." 

"Better than I am." At last she smiled and blushed to match him. She whispered, "You made this just for me?"

"Had it made," he corrected. "But the pieces came from my collection. But this doesn't make it mine. It's yours. In fact, er... Will you permit me?" He reached first for her left hand, then remembered its purpose and took her right hand instead. It took all of her restraint to keep from yanking it away, especially when he slipped it on her finger. A perfect fit. He held her hand by the very tips of the fingers. For a long time she couldn't do much more than stare at it and silently curse herself for being struck so dumb by a piece of jewelry. No, it wasn't that. She was speechless over what he had done for her.

"I still don't know what to say," she whispered. "Other than 'thank you.' For this. For everything."

"Likewise," he said. Off her bewildered look: "As I said, all that I have is yours."

It was her turn to be nervous and gawky. After some blushing and awkward smiling, she sighed. "And likewise to you. All that _I_ have is yours."

She took up his hand and kissed it reverently, then met him with several deep kisses and no words. Afterwards they leaned against each other and enjoyed the peace. He had his eyes closed, but she watched the light from the windows twinkling on the gems.

"Kelvin," she whispered. "I've been thinking."

"A dangerous thing indeed," he murmured.

"Yes, very," she said. "If all that I have truly is yours, then... I have something that I want to give you. But you should know, it wouldn't be beautiful like this ring, or fancy, but it is something I've had a long time. I want to give it to you."

He grinned. "There is something of yours that I greatly desire," he said, and sighed. "But I won't take it until our wedding day."

" _I_ have something that you desire?" she said. "Then take it now. What is it that-?" Comprehension finally hit her like a shot. She blushed and resumed the fidgeting habit that she was so far unable to break. Kelvin chuckled. "All right, er... Yes. Well. Just so you know, I was speaking of something else for you. On top of that."

"Mmm," he mused. "It would be more natural for me to be on top."

" _Kelvin_ , I am-! I'm trying to-!" she said in frustration, which only served to amuse him more. She pouted in silence while he spent the next moments switching between quiet dignity and grace and a snickering boy. Finally her reserve broke down, and she giggled. "Yes, well... that is amusing. But I still wish to bring you my gift."

"Darling," he said, "What you give me isn't measured in coin, but if it's this important to you, please; now I can't wait to see what you mean!"

Mara hurried into her bedroom, then returned moments later, holding something behind her back. "Um," she said clearing her throat. "You know that I never had much. But I've had this for a long time. I suppose that would make it my most precious possession? Or was. I want it to be yours now." 

From behind her back she produced her sword, and held it horizontally before him. A silence fell that was longer than she expected. She began to doubt her judgment.

"Oh, Mara," he said while standing, "I didn't expect it to be this. As you say, it's your most precious possession. It's been your weapon, your protector, for most of your life. There's no need for you to part with it. Truly."

She opened her mouth to speak, but had no words. Still holding it aloft, she started noticing its flaws. The wearing and weathering of the leather scabbard, splotchy coloring, fraying straps. She pulled out the blade part way, each ding and dullness on the edge now an eyesore to her.

"You're right," she said, resheathing the blade. "This is no gift for a Prince. It's _junk_. You must think I'm a fool."

"What?" he said. " _NoNoNo_ , that's not what I meant at all! I meant that there's no reason for you to give up--" He stopped, rubbed the back of his neck, fidgeted. " _I'm_ the fool. Please forgive me." He reached out to try to take the sword from her, but she held it tight.

"Mara, please," he said. "You honor me with this gift. _Truly_. You know, it's said that those who give all that they have are greater than those who give from their surplus. Please; I accept your gift with all my heart."

"You mean it?" she said, one eyebrow raised.

"Do _you_ mean it?"

She was silent, and then released her hold on the sword. He took it and felt along the scabbard, turned it around, pulled out the blade and popped it back in. "It is flawed, but beautiful. If, Lord forbid, I must ride into battle someday, I promise that I'll have this with me."

She scoffed. "You don't want to ride out with _that_. Not without a lot of repairs, anyway."

"I won't change any of it," he said. "It would be with me to remind me of you. To remind me what I would be fighting for."

"Well, if there were ever a battle," she said, "I'd want to be with you. Or anywhere you go, if you would have me. By your side. I would want to be your side. I know what _I_ would be fighting for."

Kelvin regarded her in silence for a time, then smiled, set down his gift, and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Darling, no matter where I go, with this, you will be with me."

Much time was spent buried in kisses, which nearly became far more than that. They managed to hold themselves in check in time. Mara noticed that Kelvin took longer than usual to compose himself after their passionate exchanges.

"Uhh, my sweet," he said, wiping sweat from his mouth. "Why don't you read to me? Show me how far you've come? Some history or law papers, perhaps. Mathematics?"

" _Yes_ ," she said, moving quickly to sort through the writings. "That would be a good idea."


	17. Lessons Paying Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story So Far  
> \--Mara and Kelvin exchanged unequal - or perhaps equal? - gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A point or an end to all this? It's her life; I'm just chronicling it.

\----------------------

Mara was given permission to refer to the King as "Father" or "Sire" if she so desired. She was moved beyond words by this, but it was going to take time to adopt this in habit. She had grown fond of her future in-laws and hoped that they felt as she did. The fact that they were risking so much to bless her and Kelvin's marriage said much for that. 

She was also given permission to refer to the Queen as "Mother." Again, Mara was honored beyond words, but after some thought, humbly requested a compromise. Expunging her birth father from her life was one thing, but it seemed a dishonor to her birth mother's memory to do so. She offered the compromise of "Mother Queen." The Queen did not immediately take to the suggestion, but after some thought of her own, accepted and eventually, embraced it.

She continued to enjoy and thrive in her various academic lessons: reading, writing, mathematics, science, and so on. She even decided to try some music lessons, to Kelvin's delight. He thought he could teach her himself, but gave up and passed on her lessons to someone who could actually teach. The Queen had ordered less academic lessons, such as dance, courtly manners, and diction, none of which Mara attached much importance to. But the Queen did, and that was that.

Mara knew that she needed to work on calming her fears and worries. Fidgeting was her most outward sign of this, which the Queen felt could be eliminated with enough lessons on decorum and poise. Her height was an advantage for adopting a regal bearing; time and practice would make it natural for her. If only she would stop slouching.

****

During a rare time when she and the Queen were alone - that is, not surrounded by attendants - the Queen brought it to Mara's attention that her servant had been behaving inappropriately and needed correction.

"Heather?" said Mara. "What's happened? Has she quarreled with someone?"

"No," said the Queen, "But Lady Agatha has caught her bringing meals for herself along with yours, with intention to dine with you, and has heard her refer to you by name without your title, among other improprieties. She has been disciplined, but this is something you must remind her, as well."

Mara was lost in thought over this, to the point that the Queen grew mildly impatient. "Mara, have you heard anything?"

"Yes," she said quickly. "Beg pardon, your Majesty. You said 'disciplined,' and-- When you say 'disciplined,' do you mean... struck or harmed?"

"I suppose 'struck,'" said the Queen. "I don't know about 'harmed.' Is she able to perform her duties?"

"Yes," said Mara. "But your Majesty; these things that she was punished for. I've _encouraged_ them. I don't-"

"What?" said the Queen. "What on earth for? This is not proper behavior for a servant. Especially not a personal attendant. Why have you been encouraging this?"

"Please let me explain," said Mara. "I've been told that I may treat her as I please. This is true, yes?"

"Yes, to set whatever duties you wish," said the Queen.

"And how to behave in my presence, yes?"

"...Within reason," said the Queen. "But not behaving as your friend and peer."

"But-"

"You must understand something," said the Queen. "Servants are not our friends. They do not speak their minds to us, or dine with us, address us by name, or other improprieties. They tend to _our_ needs, not theirs. They _serve_ us. Your friends are of the court. Your peers. You understand this now, of course."

At first Mara could not bring herself to look the Queen in the eye as she spoke. She felt her hands began to shake, and not from nervousness. She hid them from view. "No, your Majesty," she said, and finally forced herself to make eye contact. "I'm afraid that I don't. I was told that I had liberty to treat her as I please, and how I please is for her to relax in my presence. To speak her mind, to address me by name, to dine with me, and to do all those things that you say she should not. And now I find that she suffers because of me. That she's being 'disciplined.' Your-- Mother Queen, growing up, there wasn't a day that went by when I wasn't 'disciplined' by my father for any reason and for none at all. I never knew what I'd done wrong, because he changed the reasons every time."

"I cannot bear this," she continued. "I cannot bear knowing that this awkward, but talented and _sweet_ girl, who's been a comfort to me since my first day here, is being punished for something that _I_ have done. Mother Queen, I implore you. I plead with you. I _beg_ you: end this. Please do not punish her again. I'm the one who should be. In fact, I insist on it."

The Queen scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, child."

"I am serious, your Majesty," she said. "I am absolutely so. Whatever Lady Agatha has done to her, have her do to me."

The Queen attempted to reply, then could only stare at her in utter bafflement. Finally she shook her head. "That will not happen, and you know it."

"It should," she said. "I'm the one who failed her. I failed to be a good mistress. And if this is how mistakes are corrected, then so be it."

Once again there was silence as the Queen mulled over this strange turn of events. She finished her tea and set the cup aside. 

"So be it," she said. "In your presence, and your presence _alone_ , then have at it. But the moment anyone else can see or hear her indiscretions, she _will_ be corrected. This is incontestable. And if you won't, Lady Agatha will."

Mara had met the Queen's senior handmaiden early on, and had found her instantly intimidating. And Mara had fought and killed men in wars. She quietly vowed to do anything to keep the Lady's switch from Heather's back evermore.

"Yes, Mother Queen," she said. "Thank you."

The Queen nodded and fixed herself more tea. "What has the girl done to earn such loyalty from you?"

"As I said, she's been a comfort to me from the start," said Mara. "And... we're both new, so I thought we could learn together. That we could help each other become better. I want to be a good mistress, and thought of what I would want, if I had to serve someone. She would be someone who gave me duties, of course, but be kind and patient with me. And would also protect me if needed. Speak up for me. Mother Queen, I'm only trying to be the sort of mistress that I would want. You've been kind and patient with _me_ , and protective, so... a mistress like you."

The Queen arched an eyebrow and sipped at her tea. "You think that you need to resort to flattery?"

"I'm not very good at flattery," said Mara. "I really do think that you're a good mistress." She slapped her forehead. " _Queen_! A good _Queen_! Beg pardon."

"None needed," said the Queen. She held her tea cup and tapped its side while thinking. "Thank you, child. But remember my mandate. The girl must behave well in the presence of others."

"I understand, Mother Queen," she said. "Thank you. Also, um... I thought I would mention that, though I would certainly discipline her if needed, I hope that you recognize and accept that there are _other_ ways to do so than, um... the switch? Or beatings. I've had enough of that for three lifetimes."

"Yes," the Queen said quietly. "You probably have. In the end, the result is what matters. Good luck, child."

"Thank you, Mother Queen."

"You are welcome," she said. "And by the way, do make more effort to befriend the Ladies of the court. You are a Countess, betrothed to the Crown Prince and will be a Princess yourself. You're not a commoner anymore. You would do well to befriend and ally yourself with your peers. Gildern needs its alliances more than ever."

"Yes, Mother Queen," she said. "I understand this. I will make greater effort to befriend others in the court. I beg your patience while I learn to do this. I confess that I struggle to find things to talk about with the other women. They seem to want to talk about their houses and their luxuries and their jewels. And gossip. I don't know half the people that they're gossiping _about_. And why do so many of them complain about their husbands-?"

" _Yes, Mara_ ," said the Queen. "Yes. You've made your point. Just keep listening, and in time, you'll think of things to say. As long as they're not complaints about your husband."

Both the Queen and King always had such serious demeanors, that when they made any sort of jest, sometimes it took Mara a moment longer to realize it than she liked. But she caught this one right away and smiled at the Queen, who herself took another moment before curling up her lips just enough.

********************

The last thing that Heather expected of her new mistress was a heartfelt apology, a chronicling of Mara's talk with the Queen, and a promise to be a better mistress henceforth. For her part Heather agreed to conduct herself accordingly, depending on who was around.

And forgave her mistress, of course. Mara was caught up in the moment, and pulled Heather into a hug. She released her quickly and stammered through another apology and explanation.

"I'm finding more that affection is comforting to me," she said. "But if it isn't for you...?"

"It is, my Lady," said Heather with a smile. "Though from you, it was unexpected."

"Oh," she said, and caught herself fidgeting. "Well, um, how about this? We could begin our day with an embrace. That may be pleasant. What do you think?"

Heather thought a moment, then nodded. "I think that would be very pleasant, my Lady. Er... Mara."

"Oh!" she said. "I'm not insisting on anything. You call me what's comfortable for you. Or, nothing insulting, that is. I won't abide that."

"Insulting you is the last thing on my mind," said Heather. "My Lady."

"Well, good!" said Mara. An awkward pause followed until she clasped her hands together suddenly. "I just thought of something." 

She went to her parlor table and beckoned Heather to follow. She fished through her many loose papers before finding some blank pages, then handed them to her assistant. Heather's assignment: compose a list of everyone living and working in the castle grounds, and from there, begin keeping track of important events. Births, deaths, marriages, and the like. The list of names alone would take hours, but her mistress had spoken.

"This may be a foolish thought," said Mara as Heather began writing, "But as the Queen's apprentice, I'm learning people's names and what they do. I also want to know important events, so I can honor them. What do you think? Does that seem a good idea to you?"

Heather paused in her writing. "Absolutely, my Lady," she said. "I think people here will appreciate it. But I wonder if we'll be able to keep up with it?"

"You're right," said Mara. "It will be a formidable task. But we must remain committed!"

*******************

There was to be an engagement banquet. Mara had voiced her reservations about being made the center of attention. Perhaps she and Kelvin could enter discreetly through some back door and blend in like shadows, rather than loudly announced at the main entrance? Then they needn't be scrutinized by everyone in attendance. 

The King and Queen heard this, and then resumed their planning of the event. The couple would be presented just as proudly as if everyone present wanted to see them together. They would dance, they would dine, they would mingle with all. They would wear their finest clothing, and Mara would wear an elaborate necklace borrowed from the Crown Jewels and made of many gems, mostly diamonds, and some flecks of sapphires, rubies, and pearls. This was so she could spend the evening terrified of breaking or losing them. A spectacularly failed attempt was made to convince her to create holes in her ears for the purpose of hanging other jewels from them. Her years of unwarranted pain were behind her now, she had decided, and on this, she did not yield. Fortunately the Family knew how to pick their battles, as well.

********

Heather helped her mistress practice smiling, pleasant greetings and chitchat, and then it was time for Mara to make her way to the Great Hall. Heather followed her Lady, but then, like the other attendants, was required to leave her side and enter a separate room prepared for them. If Mara could have worked her will, everyone would mingle freely.

The Great Hall was a bright, merry hubbub that did nothing to quell her worries. Kelvin, as always, made it a point of meeting her just outside the room and escorting her in. It was easier to smile when her hand rested on his, though it was not easy to keep breathing. To her great, great, great relief, the room did not suddenly fall silent, with all eyes upon them. That was because Solomon first needed to announce them loudly.

 ** _"My Lords and Ladies!"_** he bellowed. His voice could drown out a storm. **_"Give welcome to His Royal Highness Prince Kelvin of Gildern, and his intended, the beauteous Countess Mara of Riverbend!"_**

 _Now_ it was time for the room to fall silent, with all eyes upon them. Her dream come true: being the center of attention.

The court musicians immediately altered their tune to something suitable for a grand and royal entrance. The crowd then applauded politely, upper classes and servants alike. She felt as though her entire weight were being held up by Kelvin's arm, though her knees were as steady as always. She glanced at him to see what sort of expression he held. It was a dignified smile, with regal nods of the head to those gathered before them. By the time she forced a smile and polite nods out of herself, the applause was diminishing, and Kelvin was leading her towards the main banquet table. The King and Queen were already waiting for them on the center dais. Kelvin released his hold on her, then kissed her hand with a practiced flourish before standing beside the King. Mara's place was by the Queen.

The other guests hurried to take their seats at the other tables, with some minor debates occurring about the seating arrangements. The castle servants were experienced at quelling any true disagreements, and soon enough the guests were waiting for the royal family's cue to sit. Now it was time for Mara to put all her practice at sitting in this gown to good use.

As soon as she managed to sit down and settle into her seat without destroying the gown, the King stood again and picked up his goblet, prompting all others present to do the same. Mara sighed quietly and went about the task of trying to stand up again. An attentive servant stood behind her, ready to pull back the seat once she needed it to be, which took longer than it ought to have. She stifled grunts while pushing and pulling her way up, and now was ready to hold up her own goblet. She was the last one in the room to do so.

The King looked her way briefly, than began his speech. "My Lords, Ladies, friends and allies, assembled guests. We are honored by your presence at this, the announcement and celebration of the betrothal of our son, Prince Kelvin of Gildern, to the beautiful Countess Mara of Riverbend. Raise your glasses and toast their long and _fruitful_ marriage, and long life to them both!"

A hubbub of echoed words, "huzzahs!" and more applause erupted in the room. The guests followed the King in sipping from their goblets, then seated themselves after him. Mara managed to sit down just slightly more quickly than before. Then the King suddenly clapped his hands twice. She stifled a groan, wondering if it meant more standing, then brightened as servants bustled into the room, pushing carts loaded with food and drink. They stationed themselves at all tables, but the servants at the King's table doled out food and drink first. As it was all laid out, Mara stole looks at the various guests, recognizing some, but most were strangers to her. She was particularly curious if any of the women that Kelvin had rejected were there. She caught sight of one young, but hard-looking woman fanning herself and staring at this "Countess of Riverbend." To Mara's immediate right, though, was Ruth, Duchess of Gimsley, who also fanned herself constantly, but for a different reason. It was only Mara's status as Kelvin's intended that allowed for this break in seating arrangements. Ruth would have normally been beside the Queen.

In fact, the seating arrangements made for awkward conversation. The Duchess preferred conversing with the Queen, and needed to speak with her around Mara. Meanwhile Mara had finally managed to begin a budding friendship with a Lady of the court, Countess Lucinda, and likewise needed to speak with her around the Duchess. They had bonded on a mutual interest in history, and had been building on this.

Suddenly the musicians began playing. She looked their way; this usually marked the start of an evening's entertainment. She watched and waited for the entertainers to emerge. Instead she felt somebody's hand on her shoulder. Looking back, it was Kelvin, smiling warmly at her. He stepped back and held out his hand, adding a minor bow. Oh, dear. They had been practicing, and she truly enjoyed dancing with him, but this was going to be in front of _people_ now.

She swallowed, put a hand on his chest, closed her eyes, and steeled herself. Then she opened her eyes, met his gaze, and allowed herself to be led to the center of the room, which was framed by the three banquet tables. They took their positions as the musicians kept repeating the song's introduction. She could tell by its rhythm that it was going to be a waltz. She struggled to breathe deeply and evenly, and kept looking at his feet to compare starting positions with her own.

"Mara," he heard her say, and she looked up. He smiled at her the way he had done that one morning at the _Eleanor Elaine_. That one morning when she had been compelled to smile back just as brightly.

"I love you," he whispered. She felt her face grow flush. Her fear melted away. Her breathing, deep and even. The hubbub of the room died away into a dull drone. Only the music became sharper and clearer. The introduction segued into the melody, and suddenly he was whirling and twirling her around. She was unaware of her feet touching the floor. She must have been floating, with Kelvin merely guiding her about. The guests, the servants, the furniture, even the music - everything faded away, and they danced in a state of bliss and a world of their own.

She began leaning toward him, intending to rest her head on his shoulder or chest, but he guided her back gently and subtly shook his head. It was only then that she became aware again of others in the room. While they danced, other guests had come to the floor and joined them. They had been surrounded, and she had never noticed. They and the guests had been dancing in a circle; Mara had only been following Kelvin's lead and had been unaware where they had been going.

When the music stopped, and the guests stood about applauding, Kelvin led her away from the dance floor and over to an area where other guests had been mingling. As they approached, the guests applauded politely, bowed, curtsied, uttered respectful greetings -- and Mara became keenly aware that she was going to need Heather's assistance very soon. She smiled and greeted warmly as many as she could, and then had no choice but to pull Kelvin closer and explain her situation. It was going to take a team of two to get her out of that dress and find relief before it was too late.

"Run while you can, my love," he whispered. "I'll cover for you!"

"I'll return before my river bends!" she called back. He smiled and waved as she hurried from the room. Her attempts at humor usually fell as flat as that one had, but then, he wasn't marrying her for her wit.


	18. Important Enough for Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story So Far:  
> Engaged and Making It So

\-------------------------

Kelvin was laughing at a friend's spot-on impersonation of a notoriously drunken nobleman, when his mother the Queen approached. He was all smiles as he greeted her and praised his friend's comedic talents, but she was having none of it.

"Have you seen your bride-to-be of late?" she said crisply. Kelvin quieted his chuckling and looked about the room.

"Uhhhh," he said. "Hm. Well, she did need to leave to take care of some urgent business. Perhaps it's more involved than usual?"

"I have not seen her for almost half of an hour," said the Queen.

"Well, by 'urgent business,' I meant the garderobe. Should I go and-?"

"Wait," said the Queen. "For that she would need... Uff! I realize now where she must be. Thank you, son."

Kelvin and all others nearby bowed as the Queen took her leave. She ignored the gauntlet of other guests bowing as she passed, and made straight for the secondary hall where their guests' servants spent their time.

*****

While an impromptu band composed of servants played on, Mara was seated casually on top of a table with her back to the main doorway. A small group of servants, including Heather, hung about and were listening to one of them telling a story. The Queen lingered in the doorway a moment, then approached the group slowly.

"...And then they made me their chief," the Queen heard the storyteller say. His listeners nodded and chuckled and offered a smattering of applause, including the Countess. Those listeners facing the doorway saw the Queen and straightened up to greet her properly, which alerted others to her presence. Well, except the Countess.

"Oh, what's this for?" said Mara. "Not for me, I hope?"

"For _me_ ," said the Queen.

Mara yelped and hopped from the table, stumbling forward as she just missed clearing it and hit the edge. She was caught and helped up by two men. She thanked them quietly before facing the Queen and dipping low.

"Oh, get up, you," snapped the Queen. Mara straightened up quickly and fought to remain composed. "And the rest of you: you have our gratitude for entertaining the Countess, but she must return to her party." She turned and marched from the room. Mara gathered up her dress and hurried to catch up.

She spoke after they had left the room. "Mother Queen, I didn't realize how long I'd lingered. I needed Heather's help in the garderobe, and after we returned, I was saying hello to them, and there was music, and Andrew started telling stories, and-"

" _Enough_ ," said the Queen. "Time to return to our guests."

"Oh, but I think of everyone here as a guest," said Mara.

The Queen stopped walking and sighed. "I said, _enough_." She turned slowly until facing Mara. "You will spend the rest of the evening mingling with our guests, in _that_ hall. You understand this."

"But—" Mara began, and quickly corrected course. "Yes, Mother Queen."

"Not everyone agrees with your betrothal."

"Yes, Mother Queen," said Mara quietly. "But _you_ agree with it. This is the most important thing, yes?"

"We do," said the Queen with barely disguised impatience. "But our work is not done. _Your_ work is not done. Time to make use of your training. Remember: you are not a Princess yet, but you must not show doubt that you will be."

"Yes, Mother Queen."

"Come, child," she said, taking Mara by the arm. "There is mingling, there is dancing, but most of all, there is _diplomacy_. Come."

*****

It helped that Kelvin greeted her with a gleaming smile and a gentle kiss to her hand before introducing her to his company of friends. She already knew some, such as Count Richard and the Duke of Gimsley; the rest were strangers to her. She placed her hand on his in anticipation of being escorted around to meet everyone else at the banquet. The Queen gently pulled her arm away from the Prince.

"You will stay with me tonight," she said. Kelvin flashed her another smile as she was led away.

As taught, Mara stood tall and straight while being introduced to others. Smile lightly, and in between, maintain a calm and confident demeanor, acknowledge curtsies to her, curtsey to others where appropriate. During this, the Queen did most of the talking, though Mara was free to respond to those speaking to her directly. At first her friend, Countess Lucinda, had been following them, until the Queen noticed her presence and, with a tilt of an eyebrow and gesture of her head, dismissed the woman. Mara tried to show with her own expressions and gestures that it was not her idea.

Mara became aware of an odd pattern – mostly among the women she met – who would begin their introductions with eye contact, and then to a one, steal glimpses somewhere around her midsection. Her torso, her belly. For some reason women, and a handful of men,  were noticing something there. Soon enough she took to keeping her hands at belly height, which still looked regal enough to not require correction from the Queen.

The Queen brought Mara to two women who had been eyeing her from afar. In fact, one of them was the woman – not Ruth – who had been fanning herself while watching Mara dine, and dance, and generally do anything at all.

"Duchess Cecily of Warbon," said the Queen. 'Duchess' was a higher rank, so Mara curtsied. The Duchess acknowledged it with a tilt of her gaze only. "And the Countess Yvette of Spatten." 

She and Mara traded head nods. And so Mara had met two of the three women whom Kelvin had turned down as brides. They could not appear more differently. Yvette was small, with a demeanor that made her appear more so. Once introductions had been made, she did not look Mara or the Queen in the eye. Cecily was not much taller, but stockier and with no fear of making eye contact. Except for that infernal glance at Mara's midsection. What was wrong with that spot??

Cecily had snapped her fan closed at Mara's approach and regarded her with a suspicious look. Nevertheless, it was Yvette who cleared her throat quietly before speaking.

"Ehm... Countess Mara of Riverbend," she said in a small voice, "I offer my congratulations on your betrothal."

Mara's smile could not have been more warm. "Thank you so much, Countess. You honor us with your presence. Both of you. We're very glad and grateful that you came. I hope your journeys were not long or uncomfortable?"

"No more long or uncomfortable than usual," said the Duchess.

"Cecily..." said the Queen.

"It _is_ five days' travel, your Majesty," she said, then glanced at the Countess. "Well, for _me_. I think yours is longer?"

"A little, yes," said Yvette.

"Well!" said Mara, clasping her hands. "That is true kindness, then, to come this far. Your Grace, Countess; will you be in Gildern long?"

"Perhaps," said Cecily. She had reopened her fan and resumed cooling herself.

"If you are," said Mara, "Would you be willing to have tea with me tomorrow? Tea and cake, at 10 o'clock?"

Mara's attention was on the two women, so she did not notice the Queen throwing her a perplexed look.

Yvette spoke first. "Oh, Countess, that is very-"

"We will consider it," said Cecily.

"Oh?" said the Queen. "That's good to hear. Countess Mara, thank you for inviting them to my teatime on my behalf." She regarded them both and ignored Mara's own puzzled look. "Ladies; have you finished considering it?"

"W..." said Cecily, her fanning slowing to a stop. "Why, of course we will both be in attendance, your Majesty. We didn't realize it was...10 o'clock, you say?"

The Queen nodded. "10 o'clock."

The Queen offered her arm to Mara, who took it with practiced ease. "Ladies, we must take our leave of you. The Countess has not met everyone here yet. Come, Mara."

"Yes, Ma'am."

************ 

"That was bold of you," said the Queen much later. "Inviting rivals to tea." It was late in the evening. After the dancing, after the dining, after the drinking, after the entertainment. The room had more servants now, cleaning up the hall, than guests. Even the King had retired for the evening. 

"I don't want to think of them as rivals," said Mara. "I'm told that Kelvin had already declined them before meeting me? Is it 'diplomatic' to try to befriend them? Mother Queen, did I speak out of line?"

"No," said the Queen with a sigh. "But it was... surprising." Mara visibly relaxed after this answer, but there were still worry lines on her face. The Queen offered a rare smile.

"Mother Queen," said Mara, "I have a question. Is there something wrong with my clothes? My appearance?"

"No. Why?"

"Well," Mara began, and caught herself beginning to fidget. She clasped her hands hard to stop it. "Perhaps it was my imagination, but it seemed as though everyone was looking at my... Well, I'm not certain. Is there a stain on my dress? Is my belt crooked? Why were people looking at-?" She patted her belly.

The Queen leaned in and examined her clothing, and bade Mara to turn around, just in case. She shook her head. "I see no flaw in your appearance. We could ask the Royal-" She stopped abruptly, closed her eyes, and groaned.

"Mother Queen?" said Mara. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, child," she grumbled. "I regret that I did not notice it myself, but if people were doing as you say, they were most likely trying to see if you're showing."

"I'm sorry; showing what?"

The Queen shrugged, then made a half-circle gesture in front of her own belly. Mara gasped.

 _"Showing!"_ she said. "You mean...? They think that I'm...? That Kelvin and I...?"

"Calm down, Mara, we'll-"

Mara whispered, _"Don't people know that we're not married yet?_ That the two of us have not--? Have never--?"

" _Calm. Down_ ," said the Queen. She held out a hand and waited for Mara to do just that. "Yes, it offends, but at the same time, I can understand that thought." Mara gaped in shock, but did not reply. "Remember their perspective. You came out of 'nowhere,' and are betrothed to my son. To a Crown Prince. They're looking for clues as to why."

"Mother Queen," said Mara, her voice on the verge of breaking, "This doesn't trouble you? That they would think this of me?"

"It does," said the Queen. "And we will make certain to incorporate your purity into our descriptions of you. They may have been looking, but take heart; there was nothing to see! You've already seen for yourself how much women love to gossip. And men, too, in their own way. We correct what we can, but remember; it is how we comport ourselves in the face of such things that shows our character. Whatever they may think of us – of you – we must face it with dignity."

Mara nodded, but her worried expression did not fade. "Mother Queen, thank you. Your words are comforting. This is... nothing new to me. People thinking the wrong thing about me. All my life I endured the taunts and jeers of others. And yet, the thought that people would think Kelvin and I-- before being married-- It bothers me. I suppose that it shouldn't. But it does."

The Queen showed another, but small, smile. "There is always _something_ that we find impossible to ignore. For myself, speaking ill of my late children."

"Oh, Mother Queen," said Mara, "No one would _dare_ do that."

She jumped as someone put a firm hand on her shoulder from behind. By now she had managed to break her habit of reaching for a sword that was no longer there. Meanwhile, Kelvin relaxed his grip on her shoulder, then leaned over to kiss her cheek before moving to stand between her and his mother. He took up Mara's hand and kissed it, which rarely failed to calm her.

"People dare much," he said, then smiled and shrugged. "Actually, I don't know what people are daring, or not. That's all I heard. Mother – Darling – I'll be retiring soon. You two seem to have gotten on well tonight? I'm glad. You won't be staying up all night, I hope, chatting like giddy maidens?"

" _Kelvin_ ," his mother said icily.

"Ah, please forgive me, Mother," he said. "I may have, er, imbibed a bit tonight. My courage is peaked at the expense of my manners."

"Indeed," she said. "We'll see you in the morning, then. Sleep will restore your manners."

He smiled, then draped an arm around Mara. "But first: Darling? Did you enjoy tonight's festivities?"

Mara looked to the Queen first, who merely raised an eyebrow at her. The Queen would not be answering for her, after all. Mara smiled and turned towards Kelvin, whose breath confirmed that he had been 'imbibing' that night. But he was not slurring or swaying, and so, held it well.

"Oh, yes," she said. "Very much so. And I have been com... _comporting_ myself well."

"That is... good to know," he said, nodding. "I like a woman who comports."

"Speaking of which," said his mother. She pushed his arm off of Mara's shoulder. "You could do so yourself."

"Ah, yes, Mother," he said, straightening his clothing. "Dignity. Always, dignity." Once again he took up Mara's hand and kissed it. Then he held it while lingering his gaze on her. She blushed and looked away at first. He kissed her cheek, and when she looked his way, he pressed hard onto her lips and pulled her into an embrace.

Just as Mara began wrapping her arms around him, the Queen pushed them apart and swatted Kelvin in the chest. Certainly not to harm, but to get his attention. " _This_ is dignity?" she snapped. "You're not to give rumor-mongers more fodder. Off to bed now."

He shrugged. "What rumor-mongers?" Off her glare: "All right, all right, I will see you in the morning. Or thereabouts." He bowed to his mother and then turned to leave. After several paces, he suddenly returned and snatched up Mara's hand once more. "Almost forgot my farewell kiss, Darling."

"You have _done_ that already," said the Queen, now pointing towards the hallway. " _Go_."

He sighed, straightened up, then turned to leave, and this time, made it to the hallway and beyond. The Queen watched to make certain that he left. And then she noticed Mara, also watching him leave, but with her hand up in a permanent waving movement, and sporting a dreamy smile. The Queen cleared her throat and then waved her hand in front of the Countess.

Mara snapped out of her reverie and stumbled through an apology while adjusting her clothing. She then braced herself for a lecture from the Queen that did not come. The Queen merely rolled her eyes, and then offered her arm to the Countess.

"Mother Queen," said Mara, as the two walked arm-in-arm through the corridors, "Do you think anyone will take such offense to me, that I might be murdered in my sleep?"

"If that be the case," said the Queen, "Then that would be all our fates."


	19. Just a Lovely Little Gathering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story So Far:  
> \--Mara meets the exes  
> \--Her eyes are up HERE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bechdel Test score: C-

\---------------------

Mara survived the night, as did the rest of the royal family. Heather was late in her duty of rousing Mara in the morning for breakfast. Mara would not have noticed the tardiness but for Heather's earnest apologies, minus explanation. In Castle Allard, if a servant needed to apologize, it was expected of them to provide no excuses. But that was the family's rule, not hers. Mara was too groggy to have the presence of mind to stop Heather's declaration of remorse once it had started. After the girl had finished, Mara calmly and quietly hugged her, as had become their customary greeting. This time she held on until sensing that Heather's tension had reduced.

"Better?" said Mara. Heather nodded. "Good. Next time I'll let you know if you have reason to apologize. This wasn't one of them. Honestly, I would love to sleep much longer. But last night I foolishly invited some women who hate me to tea at 10 o'clock. And the Queen will be there."

"Then I will do my best for you to look your best," said Heather. Mara smiled and patted her arm, and the two women sat to have breakfast together.

Heather poured drinks for both of them. Her lady had a preference for squeezed juice from different fruits, so she always brought some. "Er... Mara... May I ask which women you refer to?"

"Kelvin's previous suitors."

Heather unintentionally whistled, then muttered an apology, before apologizing for that apology. Learned habits die hard. Mara shrugged it off with good humor. "You know," said Heather, "I don't know how they'll behave, but if they're cruel, remember: His Highness chose you, not them!"

"He did," said Mara with a dreamy smile. This tended to happen when she thought of him. "But I don't intend to gloat about it. Even if the Queen hadn't told me to be pleasant, I have no reason to treat them as enemies."

"Well," said Heather, "I hope that they see your kindness, and don't treat _you_ as an enemy." Silence ensued as the women tucked into their meal. Heather chewed her bread and butter thoughtfully. She broke the silence after a big swallow. "But if you did gloat, I don't think anyone would blame you."

Mara smiled and wagged her finger. "Trying to get me in trouble with her Majesty, eh?" Heather shrugged and smiled. "By the way, did you have trouble waking up this morning? I know how hard it is to rouse _me_."

"Oh, no, ma'am," said Heather. "I'm usually up with the cock's crow. Sometimes earlier! I was up at my usual time this morning. I only... Oh, you'll think me silly." Mara shook her head. "Er... I couldn't find my shoes."

" _Oh_ , I know how that can be," said Mara in commiseration. "You would swear that you put something right in a certain spot, can't find it scarcely a minute later, and discover that you'd put it somewhere else! So frustrating."

"Yes, my Lady," said Heather. "Such things happen. But, er... I put my shoes - all of my clothing, and other belongings - in the same spot each night. We all do. All of us girls. In fact, the Lady Agatha inspects the room before we retire, to make certain that everything is just so. And it was. But this morning they were missing. It took me a while to find them."

"Did no one help you?"

"No," said Heather, and was quiet a moment. "They had their own duties to attend to."

Mara did not reply at first. She accepted more juice from Heather, then pondered over her drink. "Heather, thank you for letting me know this."

"It won't happen again, I'm sure," said Heather.

Mara smiled and patted her hand. "Such things happen. There's no need to fret over them." She set down her empty cup, then clapped her hands together and rubbed them. "Well! Are you ready to, as you say, do your best for me to look my best?"

*******

The Queen was flanked by Duchess Cecily's mother - the Duchess Elenna - on one side and the ever-present Duchess Ruth on the other. Cecily sat beside her mother, followed by the Countesses Cateline and Yvette (mother and daughter), with an extra Lady or two to finish that side. Mara sat beside Duchess Ruth and was followed by her friend the Countess Lucinda, with more Ladies and even Ladies-in-Waiting filling out the other side of the table.

For reasons unclear to Mara each of the Duchesses held fans that they kept always in motion. Ruth had been using one since long before Mara had met her, thanks to the "second change," but Cecily and her mother seemed far too young to be heating up all the time. Perhaps Elenna only appeared to be young?

The Queen had given Mara superfluous instructions to be pleasant and respectful to their guests, especially the mothers of the jilted suitors. The new Countess called upon her training to sit straight and regally, and to keep her hands and arms just so, whether at rest or holding food or drink. Ironically it was her years of training with weapons and other manner of combat that lent a natural smoothness and grace to her movements, though some fine-tuning had been needed. What came without any training were her warm smile, and her habit of quietly thanking servants who performed some service for her, such as refilling her cup. Lucinda, who had no habit of thanking the lower classes, had nevertheless learned to tolerate her friend's odd quirks.

"My dear Countess," said Cecily, "If you intend to thank them for every little action, they might not get any work done!"

"And they might come to expect it first," her mother added. Some giggles arose from the group, though it was not unanimous. Mara heard nothing from Lucinda nor Yvette, which was a pleasant surprise for the latter.

"Your Graces," said Mara, now clasping her cup just a little tighter than she ought. "Pardon, but I find no ill in appreciating what they do for us. It's a small gesture for an abundance of work."

"It's their _job_ ," said Cecily's mother. "They receive wages, food, and lodging for it. _They_ should be grate-"

" _Thank you_ ," the women heard the Queen say, and boldly. Heads swiveled to find her receiving a refill of her own. The servant finished and backed away, just barely keeping a straight face. The other Ladies were silent as the Queen sipped her drink.

"Don't stop on my account," said the Queen, waving at them to resume their various conversations.

The awkward silence continued just a bit longer, aside from the fanning of the Duchesses. Mara cleared her throat quietly and straightened up. "Do any of you enjoy reading?" She looked one to the other among the Ladies, and found either mildly puzzled or apathetic expressions.

"Do I 'enjoy' reading?" asked Cecily. She shrugged. "It's a means to an end. A useful skill, but what is there to enjoy?'

"Oh, many things," said Mara cheerfully. "I confess that I'm new to learning, but I'm allowed to borrow any books or writings that I wish. Countess Lucinda has been helping me to read our histories. I've also been trying to read our laws. Now, those books have a lot of large words, so it's been-"

"Our _laws_?" said Cecily, and traded looks with her mother. "That hardly seems something to enjoy.'

"Er," said Mara, catching herself at fidgeting, "Well, that part is true. But I am committed to learn all that I can about anything that I'm able to learn! Er, what do you enjoy, your Grace? Your pasttimes and amusements."

Cecily shrugged again. "Who doesn't enjoy a good feast?" Other Ladies murmured and nodded in agreement. "With music and other entertainment, of course. And naturally, any gathering with our good Queen." She nodded to the Queen, who returned it out of courtesy, if nothing else.

"I enjoy dancing," said Yvette. Mara was glad to have good hearing; the Countess was perhaps a little too soft-spoken for most.

"Yvette, my dear child," said her mother, "You have interrupted the Duchess."

"Sorry, Mother," she said quietly. "Your Grace."

"Oh, I was finished," said Cecily.

Another silence ensued before Mara attempted more practice of the art of conversation. "Countess Yvette, you were saying about dancing?"

"Oh," she said, "Only that I enjoy it. That's all. And embroidery, a little."

"Embroidery?" said Mara. "Did you bring any with you? I'd love to see them."

"Oh," she said, "They're only simple things, to pass the time on journeys."

"I'd still like to see them," said Mara. "I don't embroider or knit, but am willing to learn. Perhaps you could teach me?"

"I'm afraid that there won't be time for that," said Cateline.

"Oh?" said the Queen. "You're leaving soon? I'd thought you would be staying another day or two."

"Well," said Cateline, "I don't know, your Majesty. Perhaps. It depends on what my husband wishes. Stay. Leave. We shall see."

"Ah," said Mara, "Well, Countess Yvette, if you do end up with some time before leaving, I hope that you wouldn't mind humoring me? For teaching your skills."

Cateline scoffed. "'Skills.' You are kind, my dear Countess."

Mara reminded herself of the Queen's instructions to be pleasant. Her father had been direct and to the point when deriding her as a child. Calling her 'stupid' and 'worthless' to her face was there for all to see and hear. The Countess Cateline was subtle in her disparagement, but no less effective, judging by Yvette's demeanor.

"To a beginner," said Mara, "Anyone with experience is skilled."

"An... interesting thought, my dear Countess," said Elenna. "Assuming that we all have time, do tell us of your family? Is it true that your household consists of... Well, yourself only?"

Mara glanced to the Queen, who showed the subtlest of nods. She cleared her throat quietly. "Yes, your Grace. My mother passed after my birth, and my father passed a bit later. They had no other children. My household is titled, but poor."

"What a pity," said Cateline. "Our condolences on your hardships. But of course it is not _pity_ that led his Highness to ask for your hand." Her words and tone were ambiguous enough that Mara could not decide if there was sincerity or mockery in play.

"Ladies," said the Queen, "It most certainly was _not_ pity."

"Exactly, your Majesty," said Cateline. "Just as I said. But one cannot help but be curious as to the cause of his decision? What ultimately led to his unexpected choice?"

Mara caught Cateline's glance to her belly, but did not cover it this time. As the Queen had said, there was nothing there to see, and there would still be nothing to see until months after the wedding night.

"If you are so very curious," said the Queen, "You're welcome to ask my son directly. I'm certain he would be perfectly eager to answer in detail."

"Oh, Lily," said Duchess Elenna, "We are only, ah, making conversation. After all, what's a proper gathering of Ladies without that? Countess Mara; you must be _dying_ to regale all who'll listen about your courtship, right up to the moment he asked for your hand?"

She was not wrong. Mara did her best to suppress a giggle, but could do nothing to pale her cheeks. For a moment she lost her regal composure and slouched and fidgeted, until the clearing of the Queen's throat straightened her up. The Countess Lucinda was the only other Lady in the room to whom Mara had divulged about the courtship - minus certain details, of course. Lucinda thrived on Mara's tales of romantic gallantry, but had an unwelcome habit of pressing her friend for more ribald details, which Mara avoided divulging. For now.

"There will be no regaling," said the Queen. The collective protests of the Ladies did not change her mind. Even Mara was disappointed. A little. "Oh, _enough_. You're not interested in sating your appetite for romance. You mean to poke holes in the telling of it and to twist her words."

"Your Majesty!" said Cateline, with hand on chest. "Such an accusation. We merely wish to learn more about the dear Countess."

Yvette's voice was small, but her timing was good enough to be heard. "I would like to learn more?"

Mara smiled at Yvette, and did not notice her mother rolling her eyes while deliberately _not_ looking her daughter's way.

"So you say," said the Queen to the senior Ladies. "And what if I said that, when they met, the Countess did _not_ know that my son was the Prince, _still_ did not know he was the Prince when asked for her hand, _and_ had saved his life?" Mara felt their collective gazes upon her, but did not return them. She would have preferred avoiding their attention, but decided to trust the Queen's judgment of them.

Elenna laughed and fanned herself more vigorously. "Oh, Lily, you needn't list absurdities to make a point."

"That _is_ my point," said the Queen. "All three 'absurdities' are absolutely true." The women exchanged puzzled looks, but did not reply. "You Ladies cannot hide your disappointment - dare I say _anger_ \- at my son's decision. And my dear Duchess, it is 'Your Majesty,' not Lily. Family you may be, but we are in polite company. (As far as the meaning of that word goes, anyway.) _Because_ we are family, I know your ways, and you would, given the chance, tear apart every word that the Countess says for your own purposes. Our husbands are even now ensuring that our respective households will remain as firm of allies and friends as ever. And I hear that Countess Suzette's family has already found a new husband for her. You owe it to your daughters to do the same. They are both fine women and will make even finer wives for the worthy men that you're certain to find. And I do not say that as mockery, but as truth."

A loud snap followed Elenna's abrupt shutting of her fan. Cecily's slowed almost to a crawl. The elder Duchess exchanged a look with the elder Countess, and-

"Thank you, your Majesty," Yvette's small voice was heard. "That is kind to say."

"Hush, Yvette," said her mother, and to herself, "Silly girl."

"Why?" said the Queen. "You think that gratitude is 'silly?'"

The Countess' face tightened. "Of course it isn't, your Majesty. Yvette was merely speaking out of turn. You understand."

The Queen smiled, but in the sort of way that suggested that she did not understand, nor cared to.

"Your Majesty," said Elenna, having learned her lesson, "Is it too much to ask about this, er, 'saving his life' that you mentioned before? Why, I won't even ask how it was possible for her not to recognize the Crown Prince of the land."

"But I will answer," said the Queen. "She is new to our lands, and he traveled without rank. No insignias, banners, or colors. He claims that _no one_ recognized him, never mind the Countess. And claims that it was 'refreshing,' though I can't say that I would agree, were I in the same situation. Nevertheless, they met during his travels. But he fell gravely ill, and she tended to him day and night until he recovered. If not, surely he would have..." In a rare moment, her voice faltered. She cleared her throat and continued as clearly as before. "Well. We are beyond grateful for her compassion and care."

"I..." said Mara, struggling to make eye contact. "Thank you, your Majesty."

Cateline said, "My Yvette would have done the same." From Yvette's expression at that, her thoughts on the matter were unclear.

The Queen stiffened. "I beg your pardon?"

"His Highness," Cateline explained. "She would have tended to him day and night, as well."

"Oh, for goodness' sake," said Elenna. "As would my Cecily. What is your point?"

"You are _all_ absurd," said the Queen. "You would make something that grave into a competition? What is the mat-?? You know, never mind. This gathering has run its course." She stood, prompting all others in the room to follow suit. The Ladies muttered apologies, but the Queen waved it off. "Yes, yes. Nevertheless, you are all welcome to stay in Gildern, until your own business at home compels you to go, and as long as you behave yourselves." She paused for any rebuttals that they cared to give, and when there were none: "Mara? Perhaps you would enjoy accompanying our younger guests for a tour of the grounds?"

She would have preferred never seeing them again - except perhaps Yvette, but remembered to _Be pleasant. Be pleasant_. Even when guests were going out of their way not to be.

"Er, _yes_ , your Majesty," said Mara, clasping her hands together and smiling. "It would be my pleasure." She looked from Cecily to Yvette and back. "I'm sure that you'll enjoy it. There is so much _history_ to these lands, to say nothing of its fine architecture!"

"Ah..." said Cecily, and then looked to her mother.

"Your Majesty," said Duchess Elenna, "It has been a pleasure, but we must depart soon. In fact, as soon as I've located my husband. But, uh-" She glanced at Mara before finishing quickly, "Congratulations to His Highness are in order and to his bride-to-be the Countess Mara of Riverbend."

"Thank you, your Grace," said Mara, and added a small dip. "That is kind of you."

The Duchess showed a subtle nod, but did not reply.

"A pity that you won't be staying," said the Queen. She embraced the Duchess, who was her second (or was it third?) cousin, and kissed both cheeks. "Godspeed to you all." Cecily managed to score a kiss on one cheek.

"Mother?" said Yvette. "Is there time for me to accompany Countess Mara?"

"No, Yvette," said Countess Cateline. "We will find your father first and see what plans he has for us."

"Yes, Mother."

Mara realized that she was not as relieved as she ought have been by the abandonment of the tour. She was at least curious about what a conversation with Yvette would be like, should the opportunity arise for the girl to have an unchaperoned one.


	20. Slouching Towards a Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story So Far:  
> \--Women's grasp of politics; what can I say?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mara tries to forge an alliance  
> The Queen tries to forge a wedding

\------------------------

The royal family and Mara gathered to see off their more prominent guests. A pity that none could make time to stay longer. Once the goodbyes and farewells had concluded, and the family had retired to a private room, an awkward silence fell among them. It was Mara who dispelled it.

"Your Majesty," she said to the King, "May I ask if peace remains with us? Or if there is to be--?"

"War?" said the King. He shook his head. "Peace remains. There were compromises and deals to be made. We are still allies. Perhaps not friends, but allies, and that is often more important."

"And what of the Ladies?" Kelvin asked. "How were your dealings with them?"

"Nothing that we couldn't handle," said the Queen without a hint of a smirk. Mara could not help admiring her self-control.

"Mara, you're from Breech, yes?" asked the King suddenly.

The question surprised her, but she answered quickly. "Yes, Sire. Originally."

"They've been rattling spears at our northern border," he said. "Near Gimsley. What do you know about its King?"

"Its King," she said, and looked down to think. "Its King... Pardon; who is the King now?"

"Eh?"

"Sire, I've not been there since five, perhaps six years now," she said. "And growing up, every few years - or less - someone would ride into the village and claim taxes for a _new_ king. We learned to live with it, as long as they didn't bother us any more than the last ones. The last name I remember hearing was... Brodie? Bruce? I don't recall, but by now, there may be another."

The King considered this a moment, then nodded. "'Gregor.' That's the last name that _we_ have heard. This is good to know. Instability is dangerous. On the other hand, it's also meant a lack of organized offense. Still, we should learn more about this Gregor. See if he's a real threat or just another temporary warlord. And Mara, if he _is_ a threat, what then?"

"...Sire?"

"Are you still a child of Breech," he said, "Or of Gildern?"

"Father," said Kelvin, "You're questioning her loyalty? Why?"

"Not questioning," said the King. "Exploring."

"It's all right, Kelvin," she said. "Sire, I understand why you would ask. Let me assure you that _you_ are my King. Gildern is my home. There's nothing for me in Breech. Not anymore. And Sire, you've called me 'daughter.' I would die before forfeiting that." She kept her attention on the King, but felt Kelvin's hand on her back. He rubbed it gently.

The King hinted at a smile, and nodded. "Thank you, child. Do you know what became of your father?"

"I have no reason to believe that he's alive," she said. "And if he was, I reject him as my father. But I think that he is not alive. The men that plundered my village: I think they left only the dead. I saw no one taken alive before I fell. And after the men were gone, there were many bodies, but..." She paused as the memories flooded back. Kelvin now rubbed her shoulder. "Forgive me, er... I don't know if any of the bodies were his. I didn't stay to keep looking."

Kelvin spoke quietly. "That will do, my love. Thank you. Father, by your leave, my bride-to-be and I will seek more pleasant activities. Darling? Will you join me for a ride through the country? We could even visit your County of Riverbend."

She smiled. "I would like that very much."

****

If something more intimate had been planned for their ride, it might have taken place, if not for the four guards that accompanied them for the trip. Mara was equally comforted and annoyed by the escorts that accompanied them whenever they left castle grounds. Previous discussions about this revealed that Kelvin regarded them as "a necessary burden." To her surprise, she learned that, even when he had been a musical pauper in Allcourt, he was never truly alone. He only tolerated his undercover guards as long as they never interacted with him or made their presence known, and never intervened unless he were being actively attacked - which he had not been. And he was willing to spend cold, hungry nights on hard ground to ensure that his wishes were abided.

****

The day of the wedding was approaching quickly, and no one was busier about it than the Queen. Neither Kelvin nor Mara still had much say about the details of the ceremony. Current traditions would be followed, the proper steps taken, the proper words spoken. Given that Mara had never even attended a wedding, let alone been the star of one, she had no inkling of what 'traditions' there were.

Discussions with the Queen mostly consisted of Mara being told what to do. Now that she was literate, her instructions could be written down for Mara's further study. There were frequent visits to the royal seamstresses to ensure the fit of her wedding attire. Master Roderick ensured the fit of Elisabeta's ring. Apprentice handmaiden or not, young Heather was charged with arranging her mistress' hair for the day. She even had sketches of her designs for the Queen to choose from.

Top of the family's concerns, as with weddings throughout time, was the guest list. Some of the names on the list were familiar to Mara, given the number of families drifting in and out of court on a daily basis. At the top of the list was the family Funteyn, known to her only by name and reputation. They ruled the neighboring kingdom of Halliard, whose capital was a mere four days' travel. As far as Mara could recall, no family member had visited Gildern since her arrival.

They were allies to Gildern - perhaps the closest - and had more money but less habitable land. It helped to have more sources of precious metals and gems than Gildern. Flora had been betrothed to its Prince, Rupert. Upon her death, and with no other Allard women to offer, the prize went to Duchess Anne of Winslow. Still, the alliance was kept strong, and the Funteyns were expected to attend the wedding. Queen Lily imparted to Mara the importance of not offending them - something that was absolutely obvious to Mara already, but the King and Queen did so enjoy passing on their wisdom.

Equally important were those families not being invited. Mara noticed that a smattering of names had been crossed out. The Queen's list had a column for her comments, good or ill, about the potential guests. The discarded guests each had a brief reason for being uninvited, with the briefest for a family that looked like "Lenster" or something similar; the writing was unclear. There was a large "NO!" by their name. When asked, the Queen muttered that their last wedding was "a bloody mess," and said no more.

****

Heather was having her own ghastly streak of luck lately. She was tardy for breakfast another time, and as before, apologized to excess, vowed never to fail again, and accepted any discipline that Mara deemed appropriate. As before, Mara dismissed the failure and embraced Heather, per their custom. Heather did not state the cause of her tardiness, but Mara noticed a large stain on her clothes that Heather had been unable to fully conceal.

Two weeks before the wedding, Heather was late again and repeated the routine that she had been taught. When gentle persuasion failed, Mara threatened to "pull rank" and order Heather to explain the cause of her tardiness. This time her other dress had been torn. Again, she offered no explanation - only a promise that it would be repaired and cause no more delays.

Mara placed her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Heather, I won't order you to speak, but you must know that I want to help? Will you be plain with me? Is it _you_ who's taking poor care of your things? Or are you perhaps sleeping more soundly than you thought?"

"I..." she said quietly, "I don't understand what you mean, My Lady."

"I think that you do."

A long silence was held between them. Heather broke it, with a voice quieter than before. "Will you be 'pulling rank' now, Ma'am?"

Mara considered just that, but then smiled and patted the girl's shoulders. "No. But do give me your torn dress as soon as you're able."

"Yes, My-- Wait, surely not for _you_ to repair it? I swear that it'll be done tonight. You needn't-!"

"I didn't say that _I_ would be repairing it," said Mara, and watched her as if daring her to continue protesting. Then she broke into a warm smile and rubbed her assistant's arm playfully. With that, the two women partook of their breakfast together, per their custom.

****

That same day, Mara was alone in her parlor when there was a knock at its door. She rose and greeted her guest herself.

"Lady Agatha," said Mara cheerfully, opening the door wide to allow her in. "Welcome!"

The Lady Agatha nodded her head in greeting. "Countess. You sent for me?"

"I did," said Mara. "Please seat yourself anywhere you like."

The Lady entered the room and chose a seat, but stood still in front of it. It was not until Mara had returned to her own chair that the Lady followed suit. Mara picked up a plate with leftover snacks of cheese and fruit and held it out to her. The Lady squinted at the plate. She was not hungry, but obliged the offer by taking a small plum.

"Thank you for coming," said Mara. "I know that you're the busiest of Her Majesty's attendants."

"We are all at _your_ service, as well," said the Lady Agatha.

"Er... Well, I hope not to take up much of your time," said Mara, her tone now a bit more somber. When she and the Lady had first met, Mara felt as though she were being examined layer by layer, and that the Lady did not approve of what she uncovered. This feeling was largely undiminished even up to now. It did not matter that she technically outranked the Lady; Mara had struggled with her decision to invite her here for discussion. Mara hoped that she would be able to speak without stumbling.

"I'm, er," Mara began, and then needed to clear her throat. So much for that plan. "I'm concerned about Heather. I'm hoping that you can assist me with this."

"I understand your concern, my Lady," said Lady Agatha, "And I can help. But I hope you won't think me forward for reminding you that you have forbidden me from training her?"

Mara wrinkled her brow in confusion before shaking it off. "That's... not what I asked when I spoke with Her Majesty about it. What I asked is that you leave any _disciplining_ of her to me. I know that she's still an apprentice and has much to learn. Of course she should continue her training."

"My Lady," she said, "Training must always include discipline."

"Perhaps," said Mara, "But 'discipline' doesn't mean that you have to—" She stopped and sighed. "I think I should begin again. This is not why I asked you here. I would like your help in learning who's been nearly ruining Heather's possessions overnight. This has happened several times, and I'm concerned about the cause. I have asked her, but she's been... quite reluctant to tell me."

"May I suggest," said the Lady, "That you order her to? You are her mistress. And yet she won't answer your questions?"

Mara held up her hands. "Lady Agatha, it is not my way - anymore - to use force on others. I encourage her to speak her mind to me, but don't demand it. And I have another reason for telling you this. First, is it true that you inspect the handmaidens' room each night before they retire?"

"It is."

"And... you found nothing wrong with Heather's effects? Her shoes, her dresses? Anything?"

Lady Agatha was silent at first, leading Mara to wonder if she'd listened to her own words, about not answering questions. "My Lady, which night would you mean? It's rare that I don't need to make corrections. Especially for the apprentices."

Mara sighed. "I would hope that you'd remember more significant problems, such as her shoes being _missing_ , or her dresses stained and torn. Perhaps there have been other problems that haven't interfered with her work? But these other incidents have caused her to be tardy, and thus distraught."

"As she should be," said the Lady. "Punctuality is one of our most important duties."

"I got that impression, yes," said Mara. "Except that I might not have noticed, if she hadn't made a fuss, and... Anyway, it's been very upsetting to her. She keeps expecting punishment, and I won't deal that out for simple mistakes. My concern is on her behalf, not my own. Lady Agatha, you must know the girls better than anyone. Again, I ask for your help; if you don't know anything now, will you try to discover who has been undermining her work, and stop it? This is the other reason I asked for you. Surely you'd want to know if there's any... conflict among the girls?"

Lady Agatha stiffened. "My Lady, are you suggesting that my control of them is inadequate?"

"What?" said Mara. "No, I'm suggesting nothing of the sort. People can be clever; they find ways to sneak past rules and other boundaries. Do you know who could, or would do this? I simply want it to stop."

"By any means necessary?"

"What-"

"Countess," said the Lady, "What if it turns out to be Heather herself? What if _she_ is 'nearly ruining' her own things, due to carelessness or, dare I say, her own form of trickery?"

"Wh-"

"She's not here to answer the door for you," the Lady continued. "Your parlor clearly needs tidying, but she hasn't done it. If I'd been permitted to-"

" _Lady Agatha. Enough_ ," Mara snapped, and waited for her silence. "Right now Heather is in the marketplace. And I won't _allow_ her to touch my papers and books, if that's the untidiness that you mean. If she did, then I wouldn't know where- You know, never mind. I needn't explain these things. I am no longer _asking_ you to help me. I am _telling_ you. If any of the girls are undermining her work, I want it _stopped_ , and I want to know who it is. Why? Because Her Majesty has told me that I must choose at least one other assistant once His Highness and I are married, which is... is scarcely a fortnight from now! And I will _not_ choose someone who acts on petty jealousy, or whatever it is, and _you_ are not helping by deflecting my questions. I expect whoever I choose to have respect, and compassion, and kindness for others, and to work _with her_ , not against her. I won't tolerate any less. If I were of a mind to question your integrity, I would wonder if you knew but had turned a blind eye to it, or worse - or worse - had done these things yourself, but I will _assume_ none of it. Instead I trust that you have the highest integrity, and will do your job with fairness, and with haste! If it _does_ turn out to be Heather's work, then so be it! _I_ will deal with her, but if it is _not_ her, then I want. it. to. STOP. Is that clear, Lady Agatha?"

"...Yes, Your Highness."

Mara scoffed. "That's not my title. Yet, anyway. Do you know who's doing this?"

The Lady looked away and scratched at her cheek.

_"Do you know who's doing this!"_

"No!" the Lady said, and then calmed herself. "I do not, Your—Ma'am. My Lady. I will look into it immediately. But most of all, it will stop immediately. You have my word. Er, do I have your permission to...?"

Mara's voice was calm again, as if her anger, having had its say, was now spent. "If you mean leave, then yes."

The Lady Agatha muttered thanks, stood, dipped to Mara, and then made haste for the door.

"Lady Agatha," Mara called. "You are Her Majesty's first attendant. Your duties to her would take priority."

"Er, er, yes, My Lady," she said. "But er... You needn't be concerned. All will be done as you say. Thank you."

The Lady left, and shut the door behind herself as quietly as possible. Mara ate the rest of her snacks, chewing slowly while lost in thought. She was not pleased with herself for the outburst, nor for "pulling rank," which was distasteful to her, but then again, she no longer felt intimidated by the Lady.

***

A week before the wedding, Mara was pleased to present Heather with her repaired dress. Rather, it had not been repaired so much as reconstructed and redesigned, with the torn area replaced with all new fabric in a colorful pattern. Heather recognized that the work had to be of the royal seamstresses. Mara accepted her thanks but did not allow her to go on about it. She had that tendency to go on about things.

To Mara's knowledge, there had been no further incidents causing tardiness or impeded performance. The Lady Agatha had provided a name to Mara, which was neither Heather's nor her own, and was a little surprised - perhaps even disappointed - when asked not to discipline the girl any further than a stern talking to.


End file.
